Ten Years
by alice-in-vunderland
Summary: What would happen if Lizzy had been forced to be Darcy's girlfriend? Even more interesting, what would happen if 10 years after they broke up, he suddenly shows up at her door? Lizzy/Darcy! Please read and review! Modern P/P
1. The Visitor

**A/N:**** Well, I started a new fiction ******** The idea has been in my head for a while, but not specifically for Lizzy/Darcy. But a sudden flash of inspiration caused me to realize it could work **_**perfectly**_** for them. Well, this is supposed to be a modern P&P, but I hope the plot is a little more original than others. I hope you like it! I'd appreciate all support, and I hope you keep reading! Happy fanficcing!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own P&P. Come on, I'm not **_**that**_** old…**

Chapter 1: The Visitor

Elizabeth Bennet stood shocked at her own doorway. On the other side was someone she had not seen for at least ten years. Ten years is a long time for someone who lives about 30 hours a day, with all the things she does. Worst of all, she was wearing _his _sweatshirt, the one he had given her an eon (it felt to her) ago. She hadn't bothered to give it back, as she wanted a memento of him, even when he was gone, although she didn't like to admit it to herself. The doorbell rang again.

First things first, she smoothed down her rat's nest of hair. She threw down her glasses and fumbled with her contacts, poking her eye twice in the process. She yanked off the sweatshirt and kicked it under a pile of stuff. The doorbell rang again insistently.

"Fine!" Lizzy muttered through gritted teeth. She took a deep breath and threw open the door.

"Oh! You're there."

"Of course I am."

"I was just getting ready to leave."

"Well, come in."

He ducked through the doorway, and Lizzy bolted the door behind him. "Wow. When's the last time you cleaned, Lizzy?"

"Last time I checked, _Darcy_," she put emphasis on his name, "you weren't my mother."

"Someone ought to help you out," he pointed out. Lizzy merely sniffed skeptically and cleared a seat at the table, pushing aside haphazard piles of papers.

"Coffee?"

"Sure."

Lizzy got the coffee pot out and turned the coffee machine on.

"So what brings you here?" Lizzy asked casually.

"Well, I have a business plan, but I need to look for investors. I thought, since I'm in town, I might as well visit an old friend."

Lizzy turned around, mug in hand and said pointedly, "We weren't just friends, Darcy."

He held his hands up, "I know, I know. So where's the hubby? Is he gonna be upset to see an ex?"

"There is no hubby," Lizzy snapped. She was irritated that he had simply waltzed into her life after she had thought he was finally gone. Moreover, he was prying into her personal life. Part of it was her shame at admitting she had no spouse, not even a significant other.

"What's the ring, then?" Darcy asked, nodding his head towards the ring on Lizzy's finger.

""Whoever said it was a wedding ring?" She was becoming more exasperated by the second. She liked to fantasize that she was married to a dream husband, and surely Darcy knew her well enough to figure it out.

"What's he like?"

Lizzy feigned confusion, "Who?"

"Your 'fantasy' man."

"Irrelevant."

"No... you're going to end up being the crazy cat lady down the street. You say you'll go out sometime. Next year, for example. Next year rolls around, and the next, and the next. Ten such years, and you're old, and nobody will want you."

Lizzy scowled, "I only own one cat."

"One more than the regular people have."

Lizzy frowned, "I'm an independent woman. You know that. I don't need anyone to depend on."

"I know that all too well," Darcy responded quietly. Lizzy fell silent. She didn't need to be reminded of the past. What was done was done. Darcy cleared his throat, "Truth is, I've been down on my luck since I left the family. This business plan is probably one of my last chances to salvage my life."

"Serves you right," muttered Lizzy. Louder, she said, "And you want to be a freeloader?"

Darcy grinned, "You got it!"

"What do I get in return?" Lizzy demanded.

Darcy did not answer. He merely stood up and opened the refrigerator and freezer. The refrigerator had half a gallon of milk, four cans of yogurt, and two deli sandwiches. The freezer, on the other hand, was packed. It was filled with frozen food and convenience dinners. Darcy closed the refrigerator triumphantly.

"My guess is that you don't even eat the frozen food. I'll buy groceries for you and cook.'

"I'm fine as I am," Lizzy retorted.

"Not so," Darcy walked behind Lizzy and pulled up her shirt to expose her stomach and ribcage. "Look at this! You hardly ever eat!"

"That's not important."

"Of course it is. I know you devote your social and familial life to the job, but there's a limit. Don't throw away your life. You have to take care of yourself."

Lizzy yanked her shirt back down, trying to fight back the hysterical tears in her eyes, "I was fine before you got here!"

"No sweetheart," Darcy cupped her face with his hands and tipped her chin up to meet her eyes, "let me live here and your life will be better. I'll be unobtrusive, quiet, invisible. I'll keep you alive. Look, things don't need to go back to how they were. That's not what I'm here for. I've long since given up on that aspect of our relationship."

Lizzy slumped weakly against his chest, overwhelmed by the feeling of being close to him again after so long. The very scent of him was enough to send her reeling, although she would never admit it out loud. She knew it was only physical attraction, because she despised Darcy with all her being. It had been so ever since high school, and neither party had changed.

"Coffee's ready," she observed weakly.

Darcy flashed her a dazzling smile. "Is that a yes?"

Lizzy turned back towards the coffee pot and said firmly, "You sleep on the couch."

Darcy grinned.

----------------------------------------------------

Lizzy woke with a start. She had dozed off on the couch, pen and paper still on her lap. Someone had poked her. Confused, she opened her eyes blearily. When her tired eyes focused on the person in front of her, she gave a little scream of surprise.

"Put some clothes on!" she shrieked.

Darcy shrugged, "You could always just give me an actual room to sleep in. I know you have enough. Besides, a man in boxers is not really a frightening sight. Could you get off my 'bed' now?"

Lizzy snorted. "I own this apartment. Sleep on the floor. You have been demoted."

"Well, then, since neither of us will yield, we'll be forced to share." Darcy squeezed himself next to Lizzy, pinning her against the back of the sofa. She was further incapacitated when he threw an arm around her. He pulled the afghan over himself and his prisoner.

Lizzy barely managed to squeak out, "I'll move."

"Nope. You'll end up staying all night scribbling in that notebook. Unhealthy."

"Please," she pleaded, but Darcy was already asleep. Lizzy was left to recover from her shock. Her heart was racing from the proximity to a man who was not only shirtless, but had evidently not lost any of that muscle from high school football. He had suddenly barged into her organized chaos of a life and wriggled himself in, and she hardly knew how to react.

It had been so long since she had had social contact--all trips outside were strictly for business. She hadn't even taken the effort to keep in touch with anyone, not even her sister Jane, who was residing in Italy to "find herself." She had no visitors, nor did she call on anyone. Having Darcy was a shock to her fragilely balanced world. She missed his embraces, but there relationship had never been loving. It had started with a bet.

In high school, Lizzy kept well away from everyone else. Sure, she was attractive and smart, but she talked to none but her sister Jane. She even kept away from her other sisters, preferring solitude to their company. All _they_ did was gossip all day, and she hardly had the time for that.

Despite her antisocial behaviors, she suddenly became very attractive to the boys as she entered her sophomore year. Of course, she never really noticed, but everyone else definitely noticed that suddenly, curves had appeared on Lizzy's body. It had become the goal of all of the boys to get her to go out with them. Lizzy was not inclined to find a boyfriend. She never felt the need to share something like her younger sisters, who clung to their boyfriends, only to break up with them later.

Yet, a certain football player had succeeded, not through attracting her of course, but playing on Lizzy's extremely competitive spirit. He had discovered that Lizzy could not bear to lose, so he had bragged about the football team in front of her. And finally unable to stand his arrogance any more, Lizzy declared that she thought the football team _sucked_ and would probably lose the next game. This was immediately followed up by a "Wanna bet?" Lizzy rapidly responded, "How much?" And when Darcy had whispered her conditions in her ear, Lizzy had stood horrified. But slyly insinuating she was a coward, Darcy managed to seal his bet. Darcy made sure the football team won, and Lizzy was forced to be his girlfriend through junior year and senior year.

Darcy had hoped she would fall for him in that time, but she simply brushed him off half way through senior year, telling him she didn't need anyone to make her happy. Furthermore, she gave him an enormous spiel on how much she hated him. To add insult to injury, she brought up the Wickham incident. The pair parted off to different colleges in anger.

But here he was again. He seemed genial enough, but Lizzy knew how arrogant and prideful he was. She completely abhorred his existence. She hardly knew why she had said yes. Perhaps he had poisoned her food days in advance to affect her judgment. But again, as during the year and a half she had dated Darcy, a little voice from the back of her mind crept out to torment her. "Perhaps you really _do_ want him by your side." But Lizzy clickly swatted the voice and thought away. She had always hated him, and nothing would change. She had thought the explosive breakup during senior year would have been enough to deter him from her forever. But she was wrong. He was back again to screw up her life.

"Lizzy…"

Lizzy stiffened as she looked at Darcy's sleeping face, just inches away from hers. His eyes were closed, but he was muttering. Lizzy strained her ears to catch the words falling from his tongue.

"Lizzy…so sorry…love you."

Lizzy lay stock still for a moment, until she let out the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. _What? This man whom I haven't seen for ten whole years, whom I thought I had finally gotten rid of is now back. And he dares to tell me that he is "sorry" and that he loves me? _She hardly cared that he was sleeptalking. _It was never love. It was always the thrill of the chase, being one step ahead of everyone else. And when someone threatened his high position, he would bring them down low. Look at Wickham! _

Lizzy remembered the whole Wickham debacle as the period of time in high school that she was the angriest. She was so ashamed to have gone out with someone who would be so brutal, so arrogant. She remembered the tears of frustration, and the giant breakup. Most of all she remembered going to the prom with her sister. Her sister had been kind enough to accompany her, even though she had her own boyfriend. Lizzy sighed. She would much rather have not gone, but Jane had convinced her to, telling her that it was the last chance to spend time with the people whom she might never see again.

Darcy had felt superior after getting Lizzy to go out with him. When Wickham entered the scene, he had been very gentlemanly to Lizzy, and she appreciated that; it was a change from the self-important attitude she experienced from Darcy. But Darcy didn't like Wickham, not one bit. After a party where Wickham had been _particularly_ bold, he ended mercilessly beaten by Darcy--Wickham ended up in the ER with several stitches, and a dislocated shoulder. It was after this that Lizzy, so indignant that Darcy would dare to put such a low value on human life that she broke up with him, not fulfilling the bet. She didn't care, and Darcy had been too angry to bring it back up. He had acted despicably, and Lizzy had rejected him cruelly. There was no reason that their relationship should pick up again.

And here he was again, acting as if _nothing_, nothing at all had happened. Perhaps he had selective amnesia? Lizzy sure didn't. She remembered every single hateful detail about Darcy, how he made others feel like dirt, how he thought his life was worth more than that of others, how he was always so sure of himself. How he had somehow caught her. She was just so _bewildered_ by his sudden appearance. Her thoughts dragged her along until she finally drifted off to sleep in her archenemy's arms.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Lizzy's eyes snapped open when she felt herself being shaken. Still confused from sleep, she slapped the person holding her as he shook with laughter. "Get off me!" she shrieked.

"Calm down," Darcy tried to appease her.

Lizzy took a few deep breaths. "Please move away now."

"You know, sweetheart, you say the most charming things when you're asleep."

Lizzy's jaw dropped in mortification. "NO. What did I say?"

Darcy merely grinned insolently and leaned in closer. Lizzy was barely managing to keep consciousness—she was feeling extremely woozy from Darcy's extremely seductive expression.

"You said," he paused.

Lizzy looked at him, and prompted, "Yes? What did I say?"

Darcy just shrugged and stood up. "I'll let you guess." No matter how much Lizzy whined and pouted, he would not give in. She sighed dramatically. _It's going to be a long day…_


	2. Messages

**A/N: **I'm still working on this story! Don't worry. I love it too much to give it up. Thanks for all the prodding. I update so slowly. So sorry! Of course, this chapter ain't as good as the first. But the drama builds… Please read and review with comments, suggestions, etc. Thanks so much for all the support last chapter! I love you all!

**Disclaimer:** Hahaha. Me? Own Pride and Prejudice? Haha. Dream on.

Chapter 2: Messages

Lizzy scribbled furiously in "The Notebook." The Notebook was a giant monster overflowing with papers stuffed haphazardly within the pages. Scraps of paper stuck out at odd angles, sporting various scraps of words. Of course, The Notebook never referred to a specific notebook, but rather a title she gave to her current one (she ran through them too fast to really keep track of them, even throwing away some in anger). If anyone had been inclined to peer through the window of Lizzy's apartment, even if her shades had been opened would have guessed that this notebook was extremely special to Lizzy. So they could not help but understand Lizzy's anger when a certain intruder hovered over her shoulder, peering at the words flowing (too slow compared to her thoughts) from her pen.

"Ack! Get away, Darcy!"

"Dinner's ready, Liz," Darcy drawled, leaning casually against the sofa. After Lizzy quickly slammed her notebook shut, she lifted her eyes to look at her cook (temporary, she kept telling herself). He crossed his arms over his chest, but Lizzy could read the words on his apron. Her first reaction was to stifle an unladylike snort. After all, who wore aprons these days? Her second reaction was to snort with disbelief.

"Kiss the cook?" Lizzy wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes.

"Do you have a problem with that? By the way," Darcy leaned in closer, "the offer is not extended to you."

"As if," she retorted.

Darcy leaned in even closer, and Lizzy could feel her heartbeat speed up, thumping erratically against her prison of a ribcage. His face was just centimeters from hers. She could feel his breath tickling her lips.

"If you don't like this one," Darcy stared at Lizzy, "I can always wear my other one." His intense gaze seemed to penetrate her soul. Lizzy was half afraid that he would sense her secret thoughts, the ones she was loathe to admit, even to herself. Darcy intuitively leaned closer. Impossibly closer, it seemed to Lizzy. Under his lascivious stare, her heart raced, and her eyes fluttered close. Instantly regretting it, she opened her eyes, hoping that Darcy would believe it was just a rather long blink. He smirked at her knowingly. She scowled. Sighing, Lizzy followed him, moments later.

When she entered the kitchen, she found him in another apron. It was quite similar to the other apron. Except "kiss" had been replaced with a rather… pleasant alternate four-letter word. She frowned, but made no comment, still mortified by her little incident before. But then her eyes fell upon the food at the table. Suddenly feeling ravenous, she rushed over to the table and began shoveling food into her mouth. It took her 3 good minutes of gorging to finally realize what she was eating—real, green vegetables. It was the first proper food she had eaten in—how long was it, after all?

How long was it since she had begun to shut herself off from society? Her pale, almost translucent skin had not seen the light of day for ages. She had not spoken with her friends and family for quite some time. She spoke regularly only to her editor, who even helped her pay her bills, buy some food so that she could survive. She had no idea what went on in the outside world--she never watched the news. She used her computer strictly for word processing. She only picked up the phone if she saw her editor's name on the caller ID. Every now and again, she was forced to go off to a book signing. But she hadn't been to one for a while.

It was disrupting, yet refreshing to see an old friend again. Although Lizzy insisted fervently that she would much rather see anyone besides her old boyfriend. She hadn't expected to see him before her sister. Maybe Lizzy should unearth her old email--check to see when her sister expected to be back. It would be nice to see her again. Lizzy thought of the rest of her family. She would like to see her father again. But her mother and younger sisters, she could do without. She could hardly stand the headache of living in the same house as they. So much frivolity was too much for her to bear, although Jane was always more tolerant.

Jane. She was the sweetest being in the world. She was kind to all, whatever their behavior to her be. Lizzy sometimes envied her naivety. Still, it was not good to believe good of everyone. It was so easy to be won over and used. Thinking it through, Lizzy decided that if she wanted to see Jane, it would not be in New York City, where she resided. Jane would just have to give money to every single homeless person she met.

"Lizzy?"

Lizzy's head jerked up, and she blushed as she realized she had just missed everything that Darcy had been saying in the last five minutes.

"Sorry. I was spacing off."

"I can tell. You've been eating empty spoonfuls of food for a while now."

Lizzy glanced down at her plate. She had finished the whole plate of food. She was full, yet she still wanted to eat.

"Do you want more?"

"Um... no thanks." There would be more time to eat. After all, she might have this personal chef for a while.

"Ok, then. I'm heading out for an interview," he announced, shedding his apron.

It took a while for the words to sink in. When she finally realized what he meant, she said, "Good luck!" while hypocritically thinking to herself, I hope his proposal gets rejected. He's actually not so bad to be around.

"You too. Get some work done," he advised.

Lizzy smiled back, and stood up, picking up her plate. She was going to take a quick detour before she started writing. After the door had shut behind Darcy, she picked up her laptop from under a mass of papers and opened it up. She wiped some dust away from the keyboard and logged in. It took her a little while to find the little icon for her internet. When she finally did, she spent nearly half an hour trying to find her password (the "Forgot Your Password?" link was definitely not helpful). She smirked as she finally remembered her password: ihatedarcy. She had never felt the need to change her password, even when she went off to college and later publishing her first novel. She had come a long way, but her feelings were still the same. She smiled to herself and logged in.

"Holy ---!" she exclaimed as she spied the message count. 738942 messages should have set some sort of record. She took a look. The top-most ones were from Darcy. She opened them up. They all said something along the lines of, "I am going to steal your living space for an arbitrary amount of time. Do not be surprised when I show up at your door." The next few were from advertisers, and she deleted them hatefully. Then came a long string of messages from Jane (occassionally interspersed with advertisements). Tears came to Lizzy's eyes as she checked the dates. There was a message for every single day. Jane had not forgotten her. Lizzy felt remorseful that she had not bothered to keep in contact. Jane was a sweet angel, and Lizzy had repaid her by ignoring her. Lizzy went all the way to the beginning of her messages and began to skim.

_Dear Lizzy,_

_I have just arrived in Italy. It is beautiful here. I cannot wait to start painting. The landscapes are marvelous. I wish you could be here with me, but I know that you have your own job, too. My landlady is so kind, even though her English is limited. It's all right, though, because we can communicate through pantomime. She is very motherly and makes sure I am well-fed and she takes care of me very well. _

_I hope you are doing well in New York. _

_Love,_

_Jane_

_P.S. When is your next book going to be published?_

Each and every message expressed Jane's natural happiness, and it was so contagious that Lizzy could not help but be happy that Jane was. Slowly, she made her way through all of the messages. The most recent one read.

_Dear Lizzy,_

_I believe I have spent a very enjoyable time here, but I have not heard from you for some time. For this reason, I am returning to the states. I will arrive in New York on December 1__st__. Please expect me. _

_Love,_

_Jane_

Lizzy took a few deep breaths as she tried not to panic. Then she rushed over to her calendar. It seemed fate was determined to give her life a good turnaround. Just as she read "December 1st" on her calendar, the doorbell rang.

_Calm down, Lizzy. It could just be Darcy returning home. _She walked over to the door and looked through the peephole. She leaned against the door for support before finally opening it to admit her sister.

"Lizzy!" Jane exclaimed, dropping her luggage and throwing her arms around Lizzy. "It's been so long! Why didn't you write?"

Lizzy's stomach turned with guilt. "I'm so sorry. I haven't really kept in touch with anyone, except, well—"

"Ladies!" Darcy's voice boomed from behind Jane. Jane turned around in surprise.

"Will?"


	3. Dreams That Never Come True

A/N: I have been watching so many Jane Austen-related movies: Becoming Jane (best movie ever), Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility. All this Victorian romance is just too much for my sappy little mind. DARCY IS SOOOO HOTTTT. I would want to marry him. Teehee. He's so awkward and cute (: Georgiana is EFFIN' HILARIOUS! That innocent little smile. Bwahaha. Anyway, that is my explanation for a double-update. So a few notes: Bingley does not appear yet. Wickham is now Darcy's best friend—no grudges yet. And italicized parts are dreams/flashbacks. Now… on to the fanfiction!

A BIG GIANT THANK YOU to my lovely, talented, beautiful beta-reader, em38. Feel free to give her hugs for helping me put this chappie out much faster. (P.S. Em, a lot of your suggestions were going into the next chapter. Stop being so telepathic. D: It's creepy. Hehe.)

Disclaimer: I cannot claim ownership of this bloody brilliant novel.

Chapter 3: Dreams That Don't Come True

"Will?" Jane repeated, still incredulous.

"Jane!" Darcy greeted her, "it's so nice to see you again." He caught Jane in a friendly hug and kissed her cheek. Jane returned the gesture, shooting a knowing smile at Lizzy over Darcy's shoulder.

"So, uhm, Lizzy," Jane began, her eyes flicking to the ring, then back to Lizzy's face, then to Darcy's face, then back again, "are you, uhm, you know…?"

"Oh no—not at all," Lizzy denied fervently.

"She just likes to pretend she's engaged," Darcy revealed, "pitiful, really." He flashed a charming smile in Jane's direction.

"Darcy," Lizzy warned, her voice low and angry.

Jane smiled slightly, almost forgiving Lizzy for the years of being incommunicado. But she still wanted an explanation. After all, they had been the closest sisters of the Bennet family.

"Lizzy, why haven't you kept in touch? I've emailed you every single day. For nearly 4 years. You haven't responded to a single one of them."

Lizzy sighed, unsure even _how_ to answer the question. There was no excuse for what she had done. "I'm so sorry, Jane," Lizzy whispered, grasping Jane's hands in her own, "I haven't been in touch with anyone, really. I've shut myself up so terribly, and I've only begun to realize how far I've sunk."

"She hasn't been taking care of herself either," Darcy cut in, "She barely eats, she never goes outside, her house's a mess—"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Lizzy interrupted, "just because you're rich doesn't mean you can act like you're better than everyone else, and treat everyone else like dirt." She gave him a fierce glare.

Darcy took a step closer, his fists clenched tightly at his sides; his pale face looked dangerous as he stared out her for a moment with eyes slanted with anger. When he finally spoke, his voice was quite a fearsome thing to behold; Jane quaked in her shoes, but Lizzy stood adamant, convinced that she was in the right. When his apparent anger raised no emotion in her, Darcy said, "So this is what you truly think of me. Thank you, _Bennet_, for clarifying. I won't be troubli

ng you anymore." He stepped past her. Lizzy held still, almost fearful that he would try to hurt her.

The two sisters watched him solemnly as he packed. After he had his cloak and hat on, he faced Jane. "Goodbye, Jane." He made no such goodbye to the second Bennet sister. He stalked out of the apartment without another word, slamming the door behind him.

Jane and Lizzy stood silent for a little while. Lizzy finally worked up enough rage to kick over a pile of papers. When the swirling sheets of paper finally fell to the ground, Lizzy seethed. "I hate him _so_ much."

Jane began in a quiet voice, "Ehm, I'm sure he has his reasons."

"Like what? Being a bloody prick?" Jane was unnerved—Lizzy was evidently _very very _angry if she was going British. Lizzy had spent most of her time at Oxford being furious—it had taken her a while after high school to finally calm down. But whenever she was angry after that, her accent would change to British. "What bloody reason does he have for being so 'high-and-mighty'?"

"Maybe you have misunderstood him," suggested Jane.

Lizzy sighed, taking a seat and rubbing her temples. "Jane—you are so inclined to believe the best of everyone. Unfortunately, people are by nature flawed." She paused, "But let's talk of happier things, Jane. You're finally back, and I don't want to ruin it for you." Jane listened, fascinated, as Lizzy's accent gradually became Americanized within a single sentence.

Thus, they proceeded, and they caught up on the years they had missed. Even though they made pleasant conversation, Jane could still sense Lizzy's discomfort by the stiff way she sat, with her hands folded neatly in her lap. When they finally grew tired of conversation, it was already quite late. Lizzy offered her own room to Jane, as the guest bedroom was quite uninhabitable.

Lizzy herself slept on the couch. She fell asleep breathing in Darcy's scent.

_Lizzy stood at the edge of the dance floor, delighting in the sight of her own sister Jane. Lizzy felt not the slightest need to dance when she could watch such a beautiful creature instead. She turned her head when someone moved towards her and stood against the wall with her. _

"_Will Darcy, is it?" she asked conversationally._

"_Yes."_

_There was an awkward silence. Lizzy smiled slightly. "Why ever aren't you dancing? Sitting at the edge of the party, moping all alone."_

_He made eye-contact for the first time. "I might ask the same thing of you, Miss…?"_

"_Bennet," Lizzy supplied. "With such a scarcity of males, you can hardly expect me to dance."_

_There was silence once again. Lizzy cleared her throat, "So, Darcy, how do you like Hertford?"_

_"This school is adequate, although the company is… less varied."_

_"Well, pardon me, I didn't think our student body would be so dissatisfying to a _gentleman_, such as you."_

_  
"No, I didn't—" _

_"Hey! Darcy!" George Wickham was walking towards them. _

_"Hello, George," was Darcy's enthusiastic response to his best friend's greeting. _Actually, _thought Lizzy, _they are practically brothers. _Growing up in the same house, Wickham was treated as Mr. Darcy's second son. _

_"Lizzy," Wickham bowed formally, when he raised his head, Lizzy could saw the wild grin on his face and laughed at his old-fashioned formality. "Sorry, but can I steal Will away from you for a moment?."_

_"Go ahead," consented Lizzy genially._

_They walked a little ways off, but Lizzy could still catch snippets of their conversation. _

_"…so hot. Don't you think?" Wickham said. Lizzy smiled to herself._

_"You were dancing with the only half-decent girl in the room," was the cool reply. Lizzy was shocked. She looked at Darcy with the corner of her eye._Who does he think he is? _Lizzy huffed angrily_. _"She's only tolerable, not enough to tempt me." _

Lizzy woke with a start. She gave a sigh. _Only a dream. You were too emotional today. _It was still dark so she rolled over and fell back asleep.

_Lizzy browsed the library.__It was absolutely her favorite place to be. She could spend a whole lifetime inhaling the scent of these fresh books, waiting for her to devour their words. Lizzy could hardly wait. She borrowed one of the librarian's ladders. Technically, they were off-limits to visitors, but she was good friends with one of the librarians, Charlotte. Lizzy really enjoyed Charlotte's company, despite their age difference. Charlotte had already graduated from high school, and she was already in college, but the two got along well. _

_She rolled the ladder along the shelf, sliding her fingertips across the spines of the books. She looked at them each briefly, to see which one would call out to her the most._

_"Hey! Get down here!" _

_Lizzy turned around, alarmed. _

_"Oh, it is only you, Lizzy." Charlotte smiled. "Looking for something to read?" _

_"Of course, my dear friend. I trust you have already handpicked something for me to read?" Lizzy descended the ladder. Her friend was waiting with a few thick volumes. "Thanks!"_

_"Of course. Hey, by the way, I have someone to introduce to you—he's also an avid reader. You two may have something in common. Who knows what could happen?" Charlotte raised her eyebrows suggestively. _

_"Oh stop it, Charlotte," Lizzy smiled despite of herself, "but I guess if he's a reader he can't be too bad." She followed as her friend led her out of the shelves and towards the reading area. _

_"Here she is!" Charlotte announced happily. As the figure on the plush sofa turned around, Lizzy gave an audible gasp. _

_"Darcy?"_

_"You know him?" Charlotte asked, "well, then, I'll leave you two to it then." She gave Lizzy a smirk and conveniently made herself scarce."_

_Lizzy sat down reluctantly, and opened one of the books Charlotte had given her. She had barely flipped to the first page when he companion spoke._

_"Do you read a lot?" Darcy inquired. _

_"Yes. I like reading—it is a nice way to get some peace and _respite_ from the rest of the world." Lizzy emphasized the last part. She returned to her book. _

_"What sorts of books do you like to read?"_

_"Oh, anything really, as long as it gives me something to think about." _

_Darcy stared at her. Lizzy felt uncomfortable and looked down at her book. And Darcy was still staring at her. Her eyes flicked up to meet his. He gave a little start and looked down. _The situation is really awkward. _Lizzy felt for her cell phone in her pocket and played one of her ringtones. She pretended to fumble around for her phone. Then she picked up it._

_"Hello?" A pause. "Oh! Am I already late? I'll meet you right there. Give me a second. All right. Bye!" Darcy was looking at her. "Excuse me, I must go now."_

_She turned. _

_"Uhm."_

_She turned back around._

_"I can drive you if you are late."_

_"Thank you, but I will be fine." _

_"Oh." He gave a slight nod, and looked back down. _

_Lizzy walked past the shelves she so loved. Suddenly, a face popped out from behind one. _

_"Oh!" Lizzy dropped all her books. _

_"Sorry for startling you, Lizzy. But what was _that_ all about?"_

_"Hmmm?"_

_"Don't play dumb." She lowered her voice, "Lizzy, I am quite sure he is in love with you."_

Lizzy woke. This time, it was morning. She smiled as she recalled what she had told Charlotte after that.

_"My dear Charlotte, you should learn not to allow your imagination to run away," she smiled wryly, "besides, I am quite sure he is not." Then she had relayed the entire story of the dance._

_"But how rude!" Charlotte exclaimed, her hands at her mouth. _

_"Shh. I know. But no matter, I should not have him for all the world." Lizzy stuck her nose in the air and sniffed loudly, "For nobody is good enough for me." She pranced around a little, while Charlotte giggled uncontrollably._

_"Stop it, Lizzy, you're going to make me pee in my pants," Charlotte begged weakly, holding her sides in laughter. _

_"Ta-ta, peasant," Lizzy danced out the door, smiling to herself. As she looked back at the library window, she spied Darcy looking out of the glass at her. _

Of course, Charlotte's intuition had been spot on. But Lizzy would not find that out until immediately before the summer break.

She had been getting ready to leave, gathering all her books from her locker when she heard her name.

"_Bennet!" She turned around to find Darcy standing alarmingly close. "Bennet, you must know that these past months have been agony to me."_

_He was silent. "I don't understand," Lizzy said. Darcy had barely spoken a word to her, except when strictly necessary. He had been cold, and proud, barely speaking to anyone. However, Lizzy's dislike went beyond_ _that—her own pride had been wounded by his disparaging comments. _

"_I like you a lot. Will you please go out with me?"_

_Lizzy was shocked. Surely, this was all a joke. It was a practical joke to prove how cool he was, was it?_

"_I have fought against my emotions for a long while now. Despite your own inferior circumstances, the expectations of my family, all these things I have pushed aside. Please put an end to my suspense."_

_Lizzy was at a loss for words. When she finally found the words, she spoke her mind freely, "Ever since you have come to Hartford, you have been cold. You have not even bothered to be introduced to new people. Are you too proud to even consort with us?"_

"_No! That is—"_

"_Have a nice summer," Lizzy said firmly, slamming her locker door and leaving. Thus ended Lizzy's sophomore year. _

By leaving at the point, Lizzy had missed the other males standing behind her, watching the whole exchange. What followed was a party of male commiseration, back slapping and bet-making.

When she returned for junior year, she found Fitzwilliam Darcy quite a changed person.

"Lizzy! I've prepared breakfast!" called Jane from the kitchen. Lizzy jumped as her thoughts were interrupted.

"All right! I'm getting up now."

Jane smiled at Lizzy across the table, holding a mug of coffee to her lips.

"What is it?" Lizzy asked, curious to know the thoughts behind the smile.

"Do you remember the day we first met Will?"

Lizzy scowled. "Of course I do. I could never forget such an unpleasant memory no matter how much I try to forget. Curse you, Freud."

"Come now, he was just a little shy."

"Along with arrogant and proud, above associating with any of us."

"I am sure your memory is faulty," Jane observed.

"In your memory, all is good and well. I remember what occurred."

"Hmm…" murmured Jane, unwilling to argue with her sister, "he has come a long way since then."

"Yes," Lizzy agreed.

Both sisters were left to their own, very different, thoughts.

A/N: Please review :3? Tell me what you think! By the way, I'm so sorry for being so old-fashioned .___." It's supposed to be modern, but I love the way they talk. Please forgive me for the anachronism.


	4. The Party

**A/N:**** Uh oh. It seems we have a little confusion here. (Sorry I'm putting this in the A/N, but anonymous reviewers left reviews, and I cannot reply). So lemme clarify a few things. Remember the flashbacks last chapter? Those were **_**sophomore**_** year. Lizzy/Darcy go out in junior year. Charles Bingley has not appeared yet. But everything will move forward soon, I hope. Also, Darcy was very angry at Lizzy so he simply left. Besides… he found a situation :D. Trust me, we **_**all**_** love Darcy. (If you don't, go away. STOP READING. Nah… it's all right to tag along). So…if he may be going away for a chapter or two, DO NOT FRET. I love him too much too leave him out for too long. **

**BIG THANKS TO: My beautiful beta, em38. Thanks so much for all the nice comments/suggestions. **_**Trust me**_**, stuff will be put in later. Sorry for the suspense ^^". Thanks also go to noukinav018—she has been so supportive of this project, and I really want to thank her for all the reviews/comments that she gave me. To review once is kind. To review twice, is quite generous. But to review every single chapter, and to even send me PMs is exceedingly admirable. So thanks so much!**

Chapter 4:The Party

_Dear Miss Elizabeth Bennet,_

_You are hereby invited to the Writers and Editor's Dinner Party on December 18th. We hope you shall be able to attend—you may bring one guest._

_Most sincerely,_

_Bingley Publishing House _

Lizzy barely paid attention to the address and time. "Jane!" she called.

"Yes?" Jane walked into the room, and Lizzy handed her the invitation.

"Should we go?" asked Lizzy.

"Of course! Uhm, unless you have someone else to invite?" Jane's eyes sparkled with mischievousness.

Lizzy frowned. "Of course I don't have anyone else to invite."

"Are you _sure_?"

"I am perfectly sure."

"Well, then we shall go!" Jane jumped up and down. Then she was still, as if a new thought had occurred to her. "This is the first time you have gone out in quite a while?"

"Yes," Lizzy admitted.

"Well, then, we should go _shopping_ for the occasion! I'm sure you have no dress to wear."

Lizzy scowled. "I do not need a dress."

"Of course you do! It's going to be really fancy. You can't go without a dress!"

"Fine. We'll go today."

"Yay!" Jane exclaimed happily. She grabbed her coat and hat and scarf and dressed herself in a flash, and was soon hurrying Lizzy out the door. They strolled along in the frigid New York winter.

"Can't we get a cab?" asked Lizzy.

"No! It's nice to walk outside when it's cold."

Lizzy didn't want to argue, but she was glad when they finally made it to a mall. She followed Jane into a store, and they began trying on dresses. Jane shoved Lizzy into a dressing room with about a dozen dresses. One after another, Lizzy tried them on, opened the door for Jane to give her decided opinion, then back inside. Most of the dresses were failures; even sweet Jane was forced to admit that they just wouldn't do. But finally, they found _The_ _One_.

"Oh my!" Jane gasped as Lizzy stepped out of the dressing room, smiling. "It's perfect! You're simply gorgeous!"

Lizzy couldn't help but smile, as she completely agreed with Jane's assessment. The strapless evening gown exposed her slim, white shoulders, and the dress seemed tailored for Lizzy's form; it seemed to bring out any beauty hidden by Lizzy's normal attire. The fabric hugged her curves tightly until they tapered down to one end in alternating colored tiers. The azure base, covered with black mesh gave Lizzy a refreshing but classy look.

Lizzy's beauty (as sure as Darcy's musculature and Jane's sweetness) had not dimmed a bit. It had just been wanting care. Jane immediately began planning—thin, golden heels, an elegant hairdo, a few curls escaping in the front, that ornate, silver locket. Lizzy smiled, a little unsure. But Jane immediately expressed her absolute approval.

They were at the cash register within moments. Lizzy handed over her credit card (long unused).

"Uhm, sorry, miss, but it won't take that card."

"Oh," said Lizzy, fumbling in her purse, "try this one."

Card after card failed to work.

"What am I do to do?" exclaimed Lizzy.

"Here, allow me," Jane said, sliding over her card.

"No no no, I can't allow you to do that," Lizzy protested.

"Too late," Jane smiled innocently, "it is done. Besides, consider it an early Christmas gift from your sister who absolutely adores you. It would be a shame if you and that dress were parted."

Lizzy grumbled some more, but did not protest anymore. They walked along in the park, happily chatting.

"I wonder why the cards didn't work. I'll have to call later."

"Hmm. My company once froze my card—overspending, or something. They thought it was fraud."

Lizzy smiled. "I believe it."

"Hey!"

"It's true!"

"Is not!" Jane shouted indignantly, bending down to grab some snow. She held it threateningly. Lizzy ducked as Jane threw, and picked up her own snow. She threw it in Jane's face. Lizzy could not help but giggle at Jane's comic expression—a look of absolute horror, face dripping with snow.

"No!" Jane yelled, racing behind her sister, and grabbing the back of her coat. She threw a handful of snow down her sister's back. Lizzy screamed with the shock of the cold, and made a hysterical sight for Jane's eyes—jumping rather erratically, and grabbing the back of her coat wildly. When Lizzy had finally cleaned the snow out, she stared at the chuckling Jane.

Her eyes narrowed, and she tackled Jane, pinning her to the ground, and stuck snow down the _front _of Jane's shirt. Jane shrieked and rolled over. They tussled for a while before they finally snow, giggling. Jane sat up.

"This is the most fun I've had in years!"

Lizzy also sat up, "Why, didn't you ever have fun in Italy?"

"Yeah, but," Jane paused.

"But what?"

"It just wasn't the same without my favorite sister."

They grinned.

Jane gasped, and pointed across the park. "Oh my, is that _your_ Will?"

Lizzy turned instinctively. Indeed, Darcy was walking along the sidewalk, staring at his shoes.

"My, he looks so morose," observed Jane, "just like when he first moved to Hertford."

"Disagreeable as ever," said Lizzy.

Jane turned her head to stare at Lizzy. "He was different in junior year."

"Sure, but not any better. In fact, _worse_. Sure he was more sociable, but just as arrogant. Believed he was the king of the world!"

"Lizzy, you know that is not tr—"

"Jane," Lizzy looked at Jane pleadingly, "please."

Jane looked down at her hands and nodded.

* * *

Lizzy stared into the mirror. Jane's reflection made eye contact with Lizzy's.

"Jane, I don't think you should go, especially if you wear that dress," Lizzy sighed.

"What?" Jane asked, shocked and hurt. In a quieter voice, "Do I look fat?"

"No, Jane. It's just…" she paused, "it won't be safe for me, since I run the risk of being trampled by the men rushing to sit beside the most beautiful woman in the room."

Jane blushed deeply. "Oh Lizzy, stop it!"

Lizzy grinned wickedly. "Ah, it is so wonderful to speak real people again."

"We should go home sometime," Jane suggested.

"Uh… no," Lizzy said firmly.

"Oh come on! I am sure papa is dying for a visit from you. When's the last time you went home, anyway?"

Lizzy looked ashamed. "Very well, then. We shall be home for Christmas."

Jane smiled, as she added the final touches to Lizzy's hair. She pinned one last pin, and stood back to admire her work. Lizzy's hair was pulled into an elegant coif. She turned her head to look at it in the mirror.

"You didn't, by any chance, study hairstyling in Italy?"

Jane laughed, "Oh Lizzy, you know I am not good at hairstyling."

"Oh yeah. Just like how I _love_ Fitzwilliam Darcy."

"Lizzy, you mustn't be so harsh. Why do you dislike him so?"

"He's the most disagreeable, arrogant man I have ever known. From the first moment I saw him, I realized he was the last person I could ever love. He has done many despicable things—forcing me to date him—"

"Lizzy! That was because he loved you, and you were so stubborn!"

"If he really loved me, he would leave me alone. What about Wickham? He nearly killed his friend—actually, more like his adopted brother! For what purpose? Out of jealousy. And _spite_."

"Lizzy. Surely—"

"Jane, I believe you are a great deal too innocent. You cannot suppose both to be right."

"There must be some misunderstanding—"

"Then, what _is it_?" Lizzy's furious eyes challenged Jane.

Jane lowered her head, not wishing to argue, "I do not know."

"That's right. Because Darcy is so bitter. Wickham told me the story!"

"But you haven't heard Will's side yet!"

"I do not care to hear it." She stood, putting an end to the argument.

The cab ride was spent in silence.

"Thank you, Charles for inviting me."

"Well, of course!" Mr. Bingley exclaimed, "as our new corporate lawyer, you may as well be introduced to some people in the industry. By the way, keep an eye out for writers who, let's just say, are dissatisfied with their current contract."

"Will do," answered the new corporate lawyer.

Mr. Bingley looked around, smiling at his guests' happy faces. Suddenly, his eye fell upon a pair of girls just entering the room. "Oh my," he gasped.

The lawyer looked up expectantly.

"See those two girls there?" Bingley indicated the subjects of his attention with his glass. When the lawyer did not respond, Bingley repeated, "Over there!" The lawyer finally nodded; Bingley continued, "The girl on the left. She is absolutely beautiful, don't you think?"

His companion nodded his assent.

"Let us speak to them!" Bingley proclaimed grandly.

"Uh, sir, I don't think that's a good idea."

"Nonsense," exclaimed Bingley good-naturedly. "We must go greet them as our new guests."

Thus, the poor corporate lawyer was dragged along to meet Bingley's new fancy.

"Welcome," Bingley declared, "Miss…?"

"Bennet," said the one on the left.

"Goodness! Are you the author of—"

"Oh no," Jane denied, "that would be my sister. Lizzy," Jane elbowed her. Lizzy turned her attention away from the painting on the wall to the person addressing her.

Her countenance froze as her eyes met the two people in front of her. But within moments, she regained her composure and rearranged her expression. "Oh, hello. I'm Elizabeth Bennet." She stuck out a hand.

"I am Charles Bingley. This is my new corporate lawyer, Will Darcy." They shook hands. Elizabeth avoided eye contact. "Miss Bennet, I am such a fan of your work! You are such a talented writer. If you are ever in need of, say, a new contract, our offices would always be glad to consider your work. Just give me a call." He handed his business card to her.

"Thank you," Lizzy said, "I shall consider it." He smiled back at her.

"Come, let us sit," Charles directed them to a table, sneaking peaks at Jane along the way. This, of course, did not escape Lizzy's notice. She nudged her sister in the side.

"Hm… first one," Lizzy muttered out of the side of her mouth at the table after Bingley and Darcy had excused themselves for a moment to find Bingley's sister.

"Lizzy!" Jane exclaimed. She lowered her voice, "I have no idea what you could possibly mean."

"Oh, I am sure you do," Lizzy whispered back, staring at her sister. Jane blushed.

"If you ask me," Jane protested, "I should think that you are the victim, not me."

"What a silly girl," Lizzy observed vaguely, staring at the ceiling. Jane was silent, but she couldn't hide her smile.

Moments later, Jane whispered back, "Do you really think so?"

"Or else I am a poor, poor judge of character."

Jane smiled. "Dear Lizzy, I am sure it will amount to nothing."

"Prepare to be surprised, then, dear sister. For here he comes."

The two sisters stood to welcome the new addition.

"This is my sister, Caroline Bingley. My other sister is unfortunately out of town with her husband."

"Nice to meet you," Caroline shook hands with both. They took their seats, Lizzy giving Jane a significant look as Bingley took the seat next to Jane. Caroline sat next to Lizzy, which left Darcy across the circular table from Lizzy.

"Congratulations on your new job, Mr. Darcy," Lizzy said conversationally, "I daresay you have found a new situation?"

"Yes, thank you very much," he said curtly.

Caroline looked a little surprised at this short exchange. "Do you, Miss Bennet, by any chance know Mr. Darcy?"

"I do," answered Lizzy.

"Why, what a pleasant surprise!" exclaimed Mr. Bingley. Caroline looked slightly less pleased. She was even less so when she noticed Mr. Darcy looking up frequently at Lizzy. These attentions, however, were not returned in kind by Lizzy. However, jealousy and suspicion had already begun to sprout in her heart.

"Miss Bennet," Caroline addressed Lizzy, "your stories often contain passionate romances. Have you yourself any such romance?" Caroline noted carefully that Mr. Darcy looked up at that very moment.

"No. I do not intend on being married. For who could want to live with me—but my sister—who is kind enough to withstand any mess."

Caroline laughed, a sort of 'humoring' laugh.

When her brother, and the two Bennet sisters were later engaged in conversation, she leaned over next to Mr. Darcy.

"Forgive my impertinence, but do you have feelings for Elizabeth Bennet?"

Lizzy's ears perked up when she heard this—partly because she was amused by Caroline's apparent interest in her brother's new lawyer, partly because she wanted to resolve the question she had in the back of her mind since Darcy had come to New York.

"No," he replied simply. Admittedly, Lizzy was a little disappointed. _After all, a woman always likes to know she is admired, whether she returns the sentiment or not. I always thought of Darcy as my own. I guess I thought he would like me forever. But it is no matter. It has no impact on the matters of _my _heart. _With that, Lizzy's attention returned to watching the drama between Mr. Bingley and Jane unfold. It was for this reason that she missed the rest of their conversation.

"And you are quite sure?" Caroline asked.

"Quite."

"Then I find you to be quite a bad liar," declared Caroline, "just admit it."

"You would force me to confess to feelings I do not in fact possess?"

"But I am nearly positive that you _do_ possess them."

"I will admit only that she has expressive eyes."

"That is admitting to everything! Only, it _is_ a pity she does not wish to be married."

"You suppose much more than exists," Darcy objected. "The woman's logic is flawed. It jumps so quickly from one conclusion to another. I do not understand it at all."

"Then you shall never have a woman's heart."

"That is not of primary concern to me. There is only one woman whom I have ever loved. I do not think there will be another one."

"Aha! I have gotten to the heart of the matter. Forgive the pun. But I am sure that there will be others. A man's resolve is not so strong as to withstand the natural charm and wit of a well-educated woman."

Darcy made no reply. _His _eyes were still on Elizabeth Bennet. His eyes traced the contour of her face, the dimple of her cheeks when she smiled charmingly, the angle of her eyebrows when she was confused. The expression was quite becoming on her face… But he refused to let his eyes wander below her neck, knowing that Caroline Bingley was watching him like a hawk. Besides, he had already put his arm around her enough to know the shape of her slender waist, the arch in her back. His reverie was regretfully ended abruptly (although he said it was quite a good thing—he was in danger of paying too much attention to a certain Miss Bennet). Lizzy's phone rang.

"Excuse me." She picked up the phone. "Hello?" A pause. "Thank goodness! I have been waiting for this call." Another long pause. "Not enough? That's impossible! The royalties alone for my last book should have been enough to last for several years of living expe—"

Another pause. "I understand. Thank you for notifying me. I shall make another call and get back to you as soon as possible."

"Damn," Lizzy muttered.

"Is everything all right?" asked Jane.

"It should be. Excuse me," she directed the last comment to Bingley.

Lizzy stood from the table and scanned the room. She finally found the man she was looking for and began walking purposefully towards him.

"Elizabeth! What a pleasure it is to see you!"

"Yes, may I speak to you?"

"Of course."

"Privately?"

He looked around. "I don't see what you should need to say that cannot be said in public." (Secretly, he wanted he wanted to impress all his editor friends with his favorite author).

"As you wish. What have you been doing for the past three years, Mr. Collins?"

"Why, I have been editing, of course."

"No. I mean what have you been doing with my money? I trust you to take care of bills so that I may have less things to worry about so I can devote more time to writing. And yet, I find that you have been swindling me."

"I believe there has been a misunderstanding."

"Don't bullshit." Lizzy was a frightening being to behold; she stood over her seated editor, and her glare was the most terrifying of all. "There is no misunderstanding. Not only have you not been paying for my royalties, but you have been taking money _out_ of the account."

"Elizabe—"

"I don't need your excuses. I have already found a perfectly good editor. Goodbye."

"Wait!"

She returned to her seat. Her party looked at her expectantly. She smiled.

"It looks like, Mr. Bingley, that I shall have to take you up on your offer. I shall send you my new manuscript as soon as I have completed it."

"This is delightful! But to what reason do I owe this honor?"

"My editor has been swindling me for the past three years. He has not paid my royalties, and he has taken money out of my account simply because I trusted him enough to take care of my bills. Now I find myself without any assets. Everything is gone—" She paused as she dabbed at her eyes.

"Mr. Collins? Why, I don't believe it! Something must be done!"

Mr. Darcy spoke then, "You may get the royalties back, as they were part of your contract. But I do not know if anything else can be done, as you willingly gave your personal information to him."

"But surely," Bingley protested.

"I will do my best, if that is your wish, Charles."

Caroline smirked, realizing Mr. Darcy directed the favor to her brother, not to Lizzy herself.

"Of course it is!" he exclaimed, "that is, Miss Bennet if you don't mind."

"Uhm."

"Of course, Mr. Bingley," Jane interceded. Lizzy stared at her. "My sister would like nothing better than to work with an old _friend_."

"Splendid!"

When the attention turned away from her, Lizzy mouthed to her sister, "What are you doing?" Jane smiled innocently and returned to conversation with Bingley.

At the end of the evening, Bingley personally saw the Bennet sisters out to their cab.  
"Thank you _so_ much for coming. I really enjoyed meeting you." He was looking at Jane when he said this. "And Miss Bennet," he turned to Lizzy, "be assured that the situation will be rectified."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Bingley. I speak on behalf of Jane, as well, when I say we hope to see you soon."

He smiled and waved as they stepped into their taxi.

"Good night, Mr. Bingley," called Lizzy from the window.

"Please drive safely," cautioned Jane, "it is an icy night."

"I will. Good night!"

* * *

The next day, Lizzy was sitting on the sofa, still shocked from the last night. Imagine! Actually being poor! Well, not quite, just temporarily poor. Her royalties were certainly enough to be comfortable, but her life savings! Savings from when she had to labor to earn a living, before she had become a published author. Savings from previous books. All gone.

There was a knock at the door. Jane, who had been in the kitchen rushed to open the door. Lizzy heard murmuring and smiled. _I didn't expect Mr. Bingley to visit so soon…_

"Lizzy!" Jane came into the room. Her face looked grim.

"Who is it?" Lizzy asked, suddenly concerned.

"Mr. Collins."

Lizzy scowled, "Send him out immediately."

"Perhaps you had better listen."

"I would rather not."

"But, Lizzy, he says he has a proposal."

**A/N: BUM BUM BUM. Heehee. Thanks for reading! Please review, and put in comments/suggestions for the future, or confusions. But if you would like me to** **reply, please leave some sort of contact information. Keep in mind, some things will be revealed slooooowly. Be patient, young 'uns. :D Well, ta-ta, peasants. I'll see you next time!**

**P.S. I rather dislike Mr. Collins, can you tell?  
**


	5. The Proposal

**A/N: Thanks so much to EVERYONE for the kind words, suggestions, etc. And I noticed a pattern of confusion. So let me tell you this, I know that the circumstances are still very mysterious, but I will only say, you shall know sometime soon. Lovely! Let's get on with it! Oh yes, and there is a remarkable tide of general displeasure directed towards Mr. Collins; I dislike him, yes, but he is a very amusing character.**

_**Complaint:**_** Addressed to a one 'em38' on account of her extreme tardiness in returning this edit. As a result, my editing process was delayed by a whole week. Miraculously, she manages to stretch "one or two hours" into a week. I applaud her for her extreme procrastination. And it took being on my sickbed to finally get her to send this over. Haha. Just kidding (she's terrific—and super busy too!). But seriously, if you want to poke me and yell at me for being so late, blame her! **

Chapter 5: The Proposal

Mr. Collin's tall figure swept into the room. He swept into the room, bowing and taking off his hat to Lizzy. "My dear Elizabeth!" he exclaimed.

"Don't 'my dear Elizabeth' me," Lizzy scowled.

"It is a pleasure to see you again."

"Believe me, it is one-sided."

"Then I shall cut right to the chase." He continued, "As you may know, you are now practically broke. You have nowhere else to go. You will be evicted very soon from this very apartment."

"I have someone to deal with these matters," Lizzy announced defiantly.

Mr. Collins smiled coldly. "Are you really so foolish that you would believe I have not thought of that?" An expression of uncertainty flashed across Lizzy's face momentarily. Mr. Collins continued, "I believe you have not read your contract very carefully for the last few years. I, under no circumstances, owe you any royalties. I own the rights over your book. I didn't have to take any money from your account for you to go bankrupt--your high rent and food costs took care of that."

"My rent couldn't have been that much!" Lizzy protested.

"Ah, but the rent cost is set by the landlord, I believe."

Lizzy's mouth fell open, "You bastard!" "Yes, I bought the entire apartment complex using your so-called royalties," he paused, "as you can see here, there is no way you are getting your money back--you are now dirt poor, and will soon have nowhere to live. So, being the gracious, generous man that I am, I am offering a proposal." When Lizzy did not object to hearing it, he continued, "I am rich, and I have a reasonable name to myself. My kind and generous adviser, Lady Catherine de Bourgh (nobility, you know. It doesn't get better than having your husband being knighted by the Queen herself!) has condescended to offer me a piece of vital advice: to marry."

Lizzy's mouth fell even further towards the floor. "It is quite an ideal match; you are poor, and have a famous name. I can offer you a place to live, the money you want. Think of this, we will be an unstoppable force in the world of literature! An author of your skills, and an editor of my prowess, why, we will dominate!"

Lizzy was at a loss for words. When she finally gathered her thoughts, she said quite bluntly to Mr. Collins, "Mr. Collins, I cannot, and will not accept your offer."

"I quite understand, Elizabeth. I am aware that women are often accustomed to rejecting someone they actually intend to accept. I shall give you some more time to think over my offer."

"Mr. Collins, I--"

"Say no more, dear Elizabeth. Good day." He bowed again, and exited the apartment.

"The nerve of this man!" Lizzy half-screamed. "I didn't think by 'proposal' he meant an _actual_ proposal! This is impossible!"

"It's okay, Lizzy, we'll just go home, okay? And now, you'll have a proper editor?"

Lizzy grinned mischievously, "Do you think he'll give me brownie points for being your sister?"

"Lizzy!" Jane blushed furiously and covered her face. The door bell rang again. "NO!" Lizzy shouted, "don't get it!"

"But Lizzy, that would be rude, especially considering that he _knows_ we are here, and thus have no excuse not to open the door." Jane rushed over and opened the door, without even looking to see who it was. She opened the door and jumped in surprise. "Mr. B--b--ingley," Jane stuttered, "what a pleasure to see you. And Will, very nice to see you as well."

Lizzy's head snapped up at the mention of Mr. Darcy. She peeked over the sofa take a look at the visitors. "How much worse can today get?" Lizzy muttered under her breath. She barely registered Jane's conversation.

"Why don't you come in?" "Would you care for a drink? Coffee, tea, water?" "Lizzy!"

Still grumbling, Lizzy got up and greeted her guests. "Hello Mr. Bingley. Thank you for stopping by. I am sorry to say, there has been an unfortunate development."

Mr. Bingley frowned (although Jane rather thought his good looks remained intact), "What is it?"

Jane blurted out, "Mr. Collins has asked to marry Lizzy!" Trying to remain inconspicuous, she snuck a furtive glance at Mr. Darcy. His expression was hard to read, but his jaw was set very tightly, and his fists were clenched at his sides. While the rest of his face remained frozen, his eyes flicked from Jane to Lizzy in a flash, then back, so inconspicuous that no one had noticed—except for Jane, that is, who had been watching him _very _closely.

"Did he cite his reasons?" Mr. Bingley asked.

"Apparently because I am poor, and he is rich, and we could use each other's names to 'dominate' in the literary world."

"But you are not poor, well after we have fi--"

"A lawsuit wouldn't hold. My contract says nothing about paying me, rather, it cedes all rights of my work to him."

"Bastard!" Mr. Darcy finally contributed to the conversation. The three others all looked at him, surprised. "There is nothing we can do--he has not done anything to merit a civil or criminal case."

"I see. At any rate, I shall have to be out of this apartment in a week."

"Where will you go?" asked Mr. Bingley.

"We shall return to Hartford, where our parents live," Jane responded.

"Connecticut?" Mr. Bingley asked.

"It is not too far," replied Jane.

"Far enough to make it an inconvenience to see you." Mr. Bingley blushed slightly, aware of the unintended meaning of his words. Trying to rectify the situation, he added, "I mean, as an editor, I like to speak face-to-face with my authors. And seeing how I am to be your editor, Elizabeth, that would cause complications."

"I see," said Jane in a smaller voice.

"If you really do not have a place to stay, I have a place, I mean," he blushed again, "for professional reasons."

Lizzy looked at Jane. Before Lizzy had a chance to respond, Jane said, "Lizzy and I should like to spend Christmas with our family."

Mr. Bingley looked slightly disappointed, "I understand. We shall have to do our best in the circumstances then! Uhm, by the way, this may be a bad time to ask, but would you two ladies like to see a show with us?" Bingley held up 4 tickets.

"That is very kind of you, Mr. Bingley," Jane replied.

"Of course we would be _absolutely delighted_ to go!" Lizzy exclaimed. Darcy frowned slightly.

"Shall I pick you up at eight?"

"That sounds great!" Lizzy agreed readily, smiling widely.

"Ok, then, well, I shall see you soon!"

"Goodbye, Mr. Bingley," the Bennet sisters chorused as Mr. Bingley walked out the door.

"Goodbye, Will," Jane called out.

As soon as the door shut behind the two men, Jane squealed, "OH MY GOD! THIS IS LIKE A DOUBLE DATE!"

"Jane—" Lizzy warned.

Jane frowned. "He is soooo obviously in love with you."

"That's not what he told Caroline Bingley."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Well, Lizzy, he was _obviously_ lying. You don't talk to acquaintances your personal business."

"Actions speak louder than words. He has been nothing but arrogant, and unkind since he came to New York."

"Lizzy, but you must allow for his sufferings!"

"I cannot suppose that his 'sufferings' are so great that he is right in his behavior."

"Lizzy, think of how he must feel!"

"I refuse."

"Okay. Let's change the subject. I want to tell you a story." She paused, "It's about a friend of mine who needs help. Let's call him…Bill. The woman he loves is nothing but cold to him, and when she is in trouble, he can do nothing to aid her. Furthermore, the very man who has caused this woman so much pain has just proposed to her. Bill can do absolutely nothing. This woman has rejected all of his feelings. For more than ten years, he has cherished these feelings. He has given up his family for her! By age 28, Bill has become a very bitter and cold person. Do you blame him?"

"Wait a second! He left his family for me?"

"Oh, you think I'm talking about you?" Jane laughed. "Not you, of course, Lizzy. I know you like to think I am always speaking of you, but remember, I am talking about my friend Bill now. Don't be so self-centered," Jane chided gently, half-jokingly.

Lizzy scowled. "I couldn't care less about Bill. If he has been stuck on his feelings for ten whole years, then he should just give up. He's wasting his time. It's his own fault."

* * *

In the taxi, Bingley had somehow ended up in the back, sandwiched between the two women, while Darcy sat in the front, next to the driver. Lizzy and Bingley were speaking animatedly about book ideas. Darcy looked back, almost longingly. Jane was staring at the window.

"Jane," Darcy whispered.

Jane looked up, and glanced to her left quickly. Lizzy and Bingley will still engaged in their conversation. She leaned closer. "What?"

"Do you think Lizzy and Bingley…?"

Jane's eyes widened. _It is true! They were getting along very well, and Bingley hasn't even thrown me a glance. It's all about Lizzy's talent. I just don't stand out to an editor like Bingley. He's worried about Lizzy moving to Connecticut, but not me!_ To cover up her panic, Jane merely whispered back, "Are you jealous?"

"No." _Oh please oh please don't read my mind. I'm such a bad liar, and she knows it too…_

"I have known you for an eternity longer than Caroline Bingley has—don't think you can lie and get away with it."

Darcy sighed. _Well, I didn't think it would escape her notice that I'm still in love with the same woman as I have been in love with these past 10 years. A decade to be in love with someone! But to no avail… Why can't she just see me as a man, unblinded by prejudices? _His expression did not betray his thoughts this time. "How did you know about that?"

"Well, you were talking to her pretty loudly?"

Darcy raised his eyebrows. "I thought you were too absorbed with _Mr. Bingley_ to notice."

"Fine! Lizzy told me."

"What?"

"She heard you tell Caroline Bingley that you 'don't love her.' Really! Lizzy believed you. Don't throw around lies like that so casually. She'll actually believe it! If you want her to return your fe—"

"I said nothing to deserve the title of a liar." He turned back around.

_What? But surely, he is in love with Lizzy! I cannot believe how he is making this so difficult! Him and Lizzy both! _Jane glanced over at Lizzy and Bingley, and bit her lip. _But surely, she knows I like him…_

* * *

"Oh my god," whispered Lizzy to Jane, "that's _Wickham!_" She glanced over at Darcy, sitting sullenly with his arms crossed over his chest. His mouth was set in a tight frown.

"Oh my gosh. He really did end up being an actor!" Jane exclaimed.

"When does this thing end? We can go talk to him later."

"I don't know…Darcy…" Jane mumbled.

"As if his opinion matters to me, " Lizzy sniffed.

On Lizzy's other side, Darcy stiffened, his face rigid, an impassive mask hiding his true inner turmoil. But it was not for Lizzy to notice these things. She was far too busy admiring the good-natured smile on Wickham's face.

As the play ended, Lizzy rushed to find Wickham.

"Wickham!" she called. He turned.

"Lizzy? It's you! Lizzy!" He rushed over to meet Lizzy in a warm embrace. "It has been too long."

"Indeed it has," Lizzy smiled.

"Let's go outside—the night air is very refreshing."

Lizzy readily agreed, and they strolled out together, Jane following apprehensively. She glanced at Darcy as she passed him. His eyebrows were turned down, and his lips were pursed into a tight, angry line. _Oh dear… This could turn out to be a bad situation._

"Was that Darcy?" Wickham asked as they passed out the door.

"Yes, and disagreeable as ever," Lizzy sniffed.

"That is too bad. It has been so long since I have seen him, after he threw me from the house."

"How unjust," Lizzy pouted slightly, "just to be spiteful, he would leave a fellow human being with no where to live, and no money to live on whatsoever."

"Yes, Lizzy, but you must not blame him too much—after all, he has been jealous of me for so long, simply because his father favored me over him. Besides, perhaps it is a good thing—I have enjoyed theater much better than I would the law."

"That is true. You were absolutely marvelous. To think about it, raw talent on the stage, and still so unknown. It is a pity."

"But we cannot always expect the best of fortune."

"Hmm. But at least we may hope for someone's generous sponsorship."

"I'm afraid that is impossible. But you are very kind, Elizabeth."

"And you, are just as charming and handsome as ever."

Wickham smiled, and bent down. Lizzy tilted her head. But the kiss never came. Wickham's face was knocked aside by Darcy's angry fist. Lizzy watched in horror as the two began full-out fighting.

"Stop!" Lizzy shouted.

Darcy, startled by the sound of her voice, turned his head for one vital second. A blow from Wickham sent him tumbling against the wall of the nearest building. While he lay incapacitated, Wickham looked back at Lizzy.

"I'm sorry, but I must go. Please take care of him." Lizzy nodded obediently and kneeled down beside Darcy as Wickham turned on his heels. She placed her hands on the sides of his face to turn his head towards hers.

"Darcy! Darcy!" she addressed him a couple times. _Maybe he's unconscious…_ His eyes fluttered open.

"He's gone?" he muttered.

"Yes. What were you doing starting a fight like that. You really could have been injured!"

To Lizzy's surprise, a sardonic smile appeared on Darcy's face.

"What?"

"I'd do this everyday if it meant this kind of proximity to you."

Lizzy stared at him for a moment then leapt away. "Don't ever expect help from me again!" She left to find Jane.


	6. Memories

**A/N:**** So I know this is a super duper short chapter… but I'm just giving a little interlude before we begin the 2****nd**** part of this fanfic. And hopefully, there's a little more insight into Darcy's character. Also, please read this .net/s/4534118/1/Sometimes_you_cant_make_it_on_your_own . I really like it, but a lot of my ideas, past, present, and future are in there. Recognize the cell phone trick? Haha. Ah well. All I can say is GREAT MINDS THINK ALIKE (even though stupid ones do too…). Anyway, it's a great premise, and I love the twists that she throws in. **

**Thank you thank you to em38 for an outstanding beta-read. THANK YOU SO MUCH! Hugs and cookies for her!  
**

Chapter 6: Memories

There were two people in New York, the night of the 21st, who were literally digging through their past. While one was packing it up, and throwing it away, preparing to leave the bright lights and big city, the other was unpacking in his new apartment—ready to stay.

Neither was in the best of spirits—the former having been forced to leave her apartment, the latter craving what he could not have. He sifted through the photos of his past long gone. He carefully organized them chronologically. He looked at each briefly, before turning to the next. However, there were just a few that he gazed at for far longer. As minutes ticked away, he admired the seemingly genuine smiles of the subjects of the photos. For the one on the right, he paid no attention to. But to the woman on the left, his eyes could not leave her. He was like a man underwater, last bubbles of air floating to the surface, while his eyes merely looked up as he ceased struggling, seeking the sight of the sky.

His eyes traced every fine feature in her face. The curve her expressive eyebrows, dark on her pale, perfect skin. The mischievous twinkle in her dark eyes, framed by her logn, luxurious lashes. The nose that was elegant, but with a certain cuteness to it. He traced the outline of her lips with his finger. He closed his eyes, not needing the photograph to remember her face. It was all so clear in his mind, and the image of her visage rose unbidden to his mind. He pressed the photo against his face, recalling what it felt like to have her lips pressed against his, however emotionless her kisses were at times. . She made him feel so desolate; filled him with such longing. It was time to be rid of these memories, these souvenirs of their short time together, for the very last time. _This is the last night I will ever lose myself over her. This is the last night I will long for her smile…_ She was like a drug, and he was quitting it cold turkey. There would be withdrawal of course: the sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach that made him want to spill the contents of his stomach into the toilet bowl, the real, physical pain in his chest that made him gasp with the hurt. They would fade away with time. It was only seeing her living her life so normally that made him unable to quit.

He shivered slightly. It was a shiver that had nothing to do with the coldness outside; his thermostat was turned up to a near-summer temperature. Her put the photos back into his box. He wasn't ever going to look at them again. One last look at the contents was all he'd allow himself. As he put the photos in carefully, he noted a stack of envelopes in the corner of the box. He immediately recognized them as his notorious pile: "Unsent Letters to Elizabeth Bennet." On an impulse he tore the first one open. He recognized it immediately upon opening the letter. He put it down. There was a memory that had gone with this letter...

_Dearest Lizzy,_

_I saw you at Oxford today… You didn't see me though. You walked by with that man. Who was he? I wanted to ask, but instead, I stayed glued to the bench, and just watched you walk by. I let you leave, just like I did in high school. I couldn't believe I did it again, but how can I stand to watch you with another man? _

_I am not as strong or extraordinary as people think I am. I'm richer than anyone, but I don't have anything that I want. I wanted to pull you away from him and kiss you like all the years had never happened. I wanted to call out your name and make you understand. Most of all, I wanted you to love me, just for once. If only… If only I had the chance to prove myself to you. If only you would look at me with eyes unclouded with prejudice, unclouded with the lies of our past. If only we could wipe away the past, leaving us with nothing but a clean slate, and an eagerness that would be unrepressed._

_Even though you step all over my heart, with high heel shoes, all I've ever longed for is in you. Call me a sadist, call me a masochist if you will. Call perverse, call me whatever you will, just call me. I want to hear your voice--and not speaking to another man. I want to be all yours. Why won't you take me back? Why can't you see past all the lies and deception? I thought you were better than that… _

_I could make you the happiest woman in the world. Take me back. I'm begging on my hands and knees. You've changed me for the better, love.._

_Yours forever,_

_Fitzwilliam Darcy_

And another…

_Dearest Lizzy,_

_Tossing, turning._

_See what you do to me?_

_Do you feel sorry,_

_For all you have done._

_All those words unspoken, _

_Do you hear them too,_

_Ringing in your ears at night?_

_All those memories,_

_Do you remember?_

_I see you in the news. _

_Why do you still look_

_So beautiful?_

_Answer me this,_

_How did you make me_

_Fall_

_Soinlovewithyou?_

_Missing you,_

_Will (you should use a nick-name, like 'Will.' More intimate!)_

There were so many others. How could he read them all? So many words he wanted to say to her, but never had the chance, or the nerve. She had broken him down, unknowingly, unwittingly, for how could she know what effect she had on him? He folded the top of the box, and taped the edges down tightly. With finality, he labeled the box, "Elizabeth Bennet." And put it in the back of his closet.

hr

In another apartment, not so far away in distance, but the hearts of the inhabitants seemed so very far away.

"Hey Lizzy, do you need this box?" Jane asked.

"What is it?" Lizzy called out, sandwiched between two other boxes, trying to decide whether to throw away one of her failed manuscripts or not.

"It looks like stuff from high school."

"Throw it out," Lizzy called.

"But, Lizzy, they look like diaries."

_I still have those? I thought I threw them out ages ago… Hmm… I wonder what they say._ She smiled slightly. "Bring them over."

Jane, staggering slightly under the weight of Lizzy's prolific writing, brought it in. Lizzy peered into the top of the box. There were a whole stack of journals and various contents of her locker…

She peered curiously into the box to look through the contents. She smiled as she saw the photos of her and Charlotte; they had had _way _too much fun in the library, having ladder races across the shelves, speed-reading contests, Harry Potter marathons... She smiled to herself as she remembered the time that she and Jane dressed up as Remus and Tonks randomly… The bemused expressions of the library's visitors ranged anywhere from mildly surprised to absolutely flabbergasted. Although some gave the pair a smile of approval. Thank goodness Charlotte's supervisor didn't _really_ supervise her—she was in charge of herself most of the time. She smiled slightly at the old memories—they were mostly happy, to have made it into _The Box_.

She laughed out loud at one picture. "Hey Jane, remember the time when you were _obsessed_ with becoming a redhead?"

Jane popped her head in through the door. "Yes. Please don't remind me… I thought it would make me more passionate, and thus (by some weird twist of logic) make me better at painting…"

Lizzy laughed and held up the photo. Jane had somehow managed to pick the _reddest_ box of dye, and somehow it had turned her hair purple… Jane gasped. "No! I can't believe you have that!" She ran over to Lizzy and tried to wrestle it out of her hands. Lizzy held on to the photo tight, even though she was laughing very hard. Jane gave up, and sat, disapprovingly, watching Lizzy laugh. When Lizzy finally stopped, she asked, "Are you done?"

Lizzy grinned. "No." She burst into giggles again. Jane frowned, but it was mostly a "pretend" frown. Deeming the situation unworthy of any further attention, she stood up and left Lizzy clutching her sides in glee. When her merriment finally faded, she took another look in the box to see the journals. She picked up the first journal and began to read…


	7. The Enigma

**A/N: So we finally see a little bit of Lizzy's past! Intriguing… And yes, I'm aware that it's a little different from the book in that Bingley is not introduced **_**with**_** Darcy (in Lizzy's past). Oh well. It would be nice to have him here—there'd be more Jane—but unfortunately, it works out better for the overall plot if he's not here. And oh dear, I **_**do **_**miss Caroline Bingley. Also, I'm going to be spending November working on NaNoWriMo. Either that will inspire me to write a whole bunch coz of my new found speed (haha, yeah right), or it will consume all my time... I'm not sure yet. So just in case, here's another chapter fairly quickly (for me...). Also, if any of you would like to throw out ideas for my novel, that would be TERRIFIC! I'm interested in maybe... uh... deeper subjects. (fantasy, sci-fi, trying to shy away from the "urban teenager" idea, but that might work too...).  
**

Chapter 7: The Enigma

_Excerpts from the journal of Miss Elizabeth Bennet Volume I:_

_September 9, 1996_

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. At least according to Mama. Papa and I were calmly reading in the study, and she bursts in, her eyes wide open, and her hair flying wildly about her face.

"Did you hear? Did you hear? Oh, Mr. Bennet!" she exclaimed.

"I have not, and since you seem so eager to tell me, I shall not object to hearing it," Papa said deliberately, not lifting his eyes from the page of his book.

"Oh my dear Mr. Bennet! Good fortune has shined upon us." When Papa made no response, she continued. "_The_ Mr. Darcy is moving into the neighborhood!"

Papa made no response. He was still reading.

"Mr. Bennet," exclaimed Mama, "do you know what this means for us?"

I rolled my eyes as he sighed and put his book down. "Indeed, I do not. Enlighten me please."

"He is _rich_! And he has a son. What a fine thing for our daughters!"

"How so?" prompted Papa, waiting for her to make the connection.

"Why, of course he will be looking for a future significant other!"

"Is that his purpose in moving here?"

"Purpose! Of course not, but he _may_ fall in love with one of our girls. We have five girls, although he may find Jane the most pleasing. She is without a doubt the most attractive of our girls."

I smiled. It was true. Jane is the belle of the ball wherever she goes. Besides being beautiful, she's practically a Mother Theresa, as well. Although, I'll admit, she is sometimes too naïve, and modest as well. It is useless trying to tell her that nearly half of the male population of the school (maybe a quarter of the female too) is in love with her!

"I say that Lydia has a chance as well. Of course, she is not nearly as attractive as Jane, but she will do very well for a man like him." I snorted in laughter. If this Darcy had half a brain, he'd stay well away from Lydia. Mama gave me a disparaging look. Papa had a smile in his eyes.

"I, on the other hand," Papa contradicted, "must put in a good word for Lizzy. She has more sense than all of her younger sisters combined." He winked at me good-naturedly, and I returned his expression with a warm smile.

"But Mr. Bennet," protested Mama, not noticing our silent exchange, "he will never pay _any_ attention to our daughters if you do not introduce our family to him."

"I have no intention of throwing myself at him to win his favor."

"But he is rich!"

"And visiting him will make him fall in love with one of our daughters?"

"No, but—"

"There will be plenty of rich men coming and going."

"But it will amount to nothing even if twenty such men come, if you will have nothing to do with them!"

I smirked, trying to repress my mirth at this exchange. Mama hardly understood Papa's mockery.

"Believe me, my dear, if twenty such men are to move into this neighborhood, I will be sure to visit them all."

"Oh Mr. Bennet! You are a vexation to my poor nerves! I am quite sure you have no compassion for them at all!"

"On the contrary, your nerves have been my constant companions for nearly twenty years. I have gained a steady respect for them."

"Oh! You are impossible!" she exclaimed as she rushed out of the room.

He smirked at me as she slammed the door behind her.

"What do you think, Lizzy? Shall you be the first to fall in love with this 'Darcy' fellow? Perhaps he shall fall for you. When you are married, I ask only for a small share of your newfound fortune. Perhaps you could spare a little for me to indulge myself with?"

I laughed along with him.

"Of _course_, Papa, you know me too well. How could you have guessed that my sole purpose in life is to snare a rich husband with my womanly charms?"

"Why Lizzy, that is all I expect of you." He played right along, "it is lucky for you that Darcy has a son your age. But even if this doesn't work out, you could always go for the father."

I snickered.

"Your mother would be very proud," he joked.

I couldn't help myself. I burst out into loud laughter. "Stop it!" I gasped between bouts of laughter.

He couldn't help but laugh as well at the ridiculousness of the entire situation. "If you don't marry him, at least promise me this, make sure that _your_ future children will be guaranteed rich spouses."

"Of course, if you wish, Papa."

There was a comfortable silence until I asked, "_Are_ you going to visit him?"

"O-ho! It seems little Lizzy _does_ have an interest in this fellow."

I scowled. "I haven't even met him yet."

"We'll see…"

The conversation was over, and we both returned to our respective activities—him reading, and me writing.

I wonder what sort of person this Darcy is… All that I know is that he is rich, but I suspect he's just another rich snob. I wouldn't marry one of _those_ for all the money in the world! I'm just glad Mama won't try to set me up with him. It would be terribly embarrassing, and uncomfortable…

_September 14, 1996_

Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy Jr. is the _most_ disagreeable man I have _ever_ set my eyes on! His family had hosted a party to get to know their neighbors. His father was a kind enough man, although sometimes a bit formal. I had quite an intriguing conversation with him; he had many interesting ideas that he was not afraid to share. He and I shared a sense of humor, and I laughed at his jokes, while he laughed at mine in turn. Perhaps I did not like him as much as papa, but he was definitely one of the better adults that I have met. Darcy's mother was kind, gracious, and elegant, and she held herself with poise. She and her husband seemed like the perfect couple. From the way they looked at each other, I could see that they were very much in love, even after more than two decades of marriage and two children.

However, their son was silent, arrogant, and proud. He spoke with no one, unless addressed first. And even then, would give monosyllabic responses. I believe he deserves an award for the least words spoken the _entire_ night.

Not only did he _refuse_ to get to know anyone, he was judgmental towards people he hardly knew! Would you believe this? His friend Wickham was much more good-natured. Wickham and I shared a few words throughout the evening. He revealed that his father was Mr. Darcy Sr.'s personal assistant, and after his father's death, he had become like a second son to Mr. Darcy Sr. He and Darcy were like brothers.

I could hardly believe that two vastly different people could be friends. Darcy was handsome, I suppose, and initially, _everyone_ exclaimed about his good fortune. Not only was he rich, young, and had a name, he had to ridiculously attractive to all the females in the room. I admit, maybe even me. But as I mentioned before, this was only INITIALLY! His coldness and disdain the company of such "subordinates" immediately made him declared the most disagreeable man who had ever graced Hartford with his presence.

To recommend himself even _less_, I overheard his conversation with Wickham. Guess what he called me? "Tolerable"! Imagine that! He seems to think we are "country folk"! Excuse me, but just because we can't all be disgustingly rich does not mean we are beneath association. Why must he be so bad-tempered?

_September 21, 1996_

English is officially my least favorite class. Of _all_ the people I could have been tied to for the rest of the year (semester if I'm lucky), it has to be _him_: Fitzwilliam Darcy. He's _constantly_ insulting me and picking out faults, small grammatical mistakes and whatnot.

He barely knows me—how can he be qualified to give me any criticism whatsoever? He's always moody and silent. He only says something when he expects that it will be amazing and wise and humble us all in awe of superiority. He may believe what he wants but I for one will—

UGH. I _CANNOT_ BELIEVE THIS! He was looking over my shoulder while I was writing that ENTIRE last paragraph. And he says that my word choice is not very varied, and could use a lot of work (who says very varied anyways?). He recommends "Barlett's Roget Thesaurus, First Edition." As _if_. Honestly, though, have some respect for people's personal privacy! Shee **Sorry. But you seemed so occupied with writing in this thing. I just had to look over. DARCY WAS HERE.** Urk. I'm building a wall out of my binder so he can't look into this journal anymore. It's honestly so annoying. He's just so irritating, irksome, bothersome, aggravating, exasperating, troublesome, _vexatious_. There. Is that better? **Yes, but you use the word "aggravating" incorrectly… Aggravating refe—**

OBVIOUSLY a binder isn't enough to stop him. That will be it for now. Good. Bye. Period.

_Lunchtime_

Honestly, you'd think he'd give up being so superior and all. But he's just so arrogant! After I closed this book, he said (rather smugly, I might add) that I was "ascribing opinions and attitudes to people that they do not in fact possess" and that I "ought to develop a better understand of the human character before stating such a decided opinion on any one person." Imagine that! His entire persona is all stiffness and polite _condescension. _Just because he's rich and his father owns a company. What is "Darcy"? It is naught but a name; it's neither talent, nor goodness of a soul. It is not greatness, or anything that makes up a truly admirable man. It is nothing to be proud of.

Ok, so maybe I've been reading a little _too_ much Shakespeare, but at least it's something to _do_, now that I can't even write anymore during class. Personally, _Romeo and Juliet_ is a little too silly for me. Honestly, she's _fourteen_, and she's getting married to man she barely even knows? One that killed one of her family? You would think she'd have more sense than that, but oh no, not the female sex. Neither sex has more claim to being the superior; I don't believe in girls who say "I hate sexism…" only to say afterwards, "women are better than men." (Even though it _is_ true…). Neither should have the upper hand. Until we humans can learn to respect each other, we won't ever solve any of the world's problems. Just saying…

And until _someone_ learns to respect other people, there will never be any peace at the table in the third row, second column. He has no particular, amazing talent to justify his being so _hoity-toity_.

Yet he is so full of it. What makes him so much more _qualified_ than the rest of us to give advice to "poor unfortunate souls"? He has no real claims to superiority—he is ill-tempered, and filled with conceit. Honestly, can't he take an example from Wickham? Wickham's perfectly genial, and friendly. I have no idea why they are friends.

Everyone here loves Wickham—he already has his own female fan club. He _is _quite attractive, but not in the way Darcy is, I guess. Still, he is much more approachable and sociable.

The bell just rang. _Another_ class with Darcy. At last he sits across the room from me—I don't have to talk to him. It's weird, though, because he keeps looking at me. Is my appearance really so objectionable? I wonder if I have something on my face. Why won't he stop looking at me? He looks really… almost angry. How can he dislike me if he doesn't even know me? He's so confusing!

_October 21, 1996_

Kill me now. I'm not even kidding. How am I going to survive a _month_ working on a project with Darcy? All he ever does is criticize what I do. I'm not sure I'm going to survive this. Jane tells to stop being melodramatic, but this is _real_. She's lucky that she doesn't have to sit next to him. She doesn't believe that he's a devil.

"Oh, Lizzy, don't be silly. He can't be all that bad. Of course he's shy. Just give him a chance. You should get to know him better before you decide upon his character," she told me the other day.

I have absolutely _no_ desire to get to know him better. What with all the death glares he's been giving me during this project. He's _scary_. I don't know how such kind parents could have bred this monster.

He is _seriously_ unnerving me now. I'm sitting in the children's section of the library right now, and he just walked by. He sees me, and then sits down. He gives me a look that _clearly_ sends the impression that he scoffs at my choice of seating. And _now_, he keeps staring at me. What is he trying to do? Intimidate me? Well, it's not working. Oh my gosh. He just moved to the seat across from me. (On a side note, he doesn't even look ridiculous in a child's chair. He's _that _scary.) He isn't even reading now. I can tell, because his book is upside down, and he hasn't flipped a page in a very long time. He's not that slow of a reader—he's always complaining about how slow I read in English when the teacher decides to torture me by making us share books with our table partners. He always reads with lightning speed, being the _genius_ that he is. When he's done with the page, he just complains about my "snail's pace." Puh-lease. I doubt he even reads carefully. I'm still faster than practically all the kids in our class. And plus, his insistent complaining only slows me down.

Hehe. He just realized he's holding the book upside down. Serves him right for being such a jerk.

Oh my. He speaks. How gracious of him to impart his valuable words to me.

"What are you writing."

There's not even a question mark after this. He doesn't ask it like a question, more like a demand to know.

"Nothing." I answer. I wish he would take the hint and move away. I don't want to work on our English project right now. It's the weekend! I deserve some time off.

"Are you writing about me."

"Don't flatter yourself," is my curt response to his inquiry. Honestly, his intuition is frightening. He has more intelligence than I originally gave him credit for. I'll have to be incredibly careful if I want to keep my steady abuse of him in this journal a secret.

"How far are you on your part of the project."

"Far enough."

"Can I read it."

"No."

"I need to read it."

"No."

"You're so stubborn."

"You're so demanding."

"Just cooperate."

"Request denied."

"You're really immature, you know that, right?"

"Yeah, and I don't give a damn."

No response.

"Do you want to come over to work on the project."

"No thank you."

"You're going to finish it on time."

"Yes."

"Give me a deadline."

"I work on my own schedule."

"If we fail, it's your fault."

"Fine, but if we get an amazing grade, it's also my credit."

"You can't claim the credit for my brilliance."

"You can't claim credit for _mine._"

"I wouldn't want to claim credit for something that doesn't exist."

"At least my stupid ego isn't so inflated that I'm blind to everyone's merits."

"I can't be considered blind if there's nothing to see."

"Tell me, would you consider pride a virtue or a fault?"

"Pride is neither a virtue or fault—it can be well-deserved. Vanity, however, can be considered a fault. Pride refers mostly to what others think of you, while vanity refers to what you think of yourself. In this case, I am not mistaken to have pride."

"Wow. That's the most words I've ever heard you speak in one go. What would you say is your fault, then? If you have any, that is."

"I do have faults. Chief of most, I would imagine is my temper. It is generally too easy, and lenient. But it may also be called resentful; my good opinion once lost is lost forever."

"I imagine there have many an unfortunate person to have lost your favor."

"No indeed." He stared at me intensely. I shifted nervously under his gaze, and now return to writing this. His words are cryptic, his expressions ambiguous. All I know is that he dislikes me, and he's hard to please. And his trust is not something that can be won back, once lost. I fear that I cannot make out his character.

I remain very, very confused.

**A/N: Please review? Tell me how I'm doi—****EMMA WAS HERE. BWAHAHAHA. I LOVE YOU DARCY!**** Gah. Stupid beta… Getting arrogant coz she broke her beta-ing record…**


	8. Happy Halloween!

**A/N: Hello, Happy Halloween everybody! I decided to post this without beta-ing it this time because it's been a while since my last update, and I want em38 to read this at the same time as the rest of you, and also, NEWS FLASH! I am going to be doing NaNoWriMo. Either of two things will happen: the pressure of writing fast will be two much for me, and I will abandon this fic for a month, or I'll be writing so super duper fast, I'll update supersuper fast. So… just a heads up, if I disappear, don't worry. I haven't abandoned you! I love you all too much. Please review and encourage me to write faster so I may get out some updates in November. But whatever happens, there will be a lot of updates in December. Just sayin'. **

Chapter 8: Happy Halloween!

October 31, 1996

It is Halloween today. Mama reckons I am too old for "such antics." No one is _ever_ too old to celebrate Halloween! It is sacrilege to disregard such an important holiday. However, mama was adamant. I will not be dressing up this year, let alone trick-or-treating... So much lost candy. What a pity, really. It's getting cold now; I'm sitting in the park right now, and the breezes that blow by make me want to curl up into a ball and go home and drink hot cocoa. But if I cannot _participate_ in Halloween, I can at least watch other people as they parade around in all their glory... I'll admit it; I am a bit jealous, but it's nothing to be ashamed of. They have an eternity to enjoy their youth, while I have already been declared OLD.

So here I sit, rather pitifully, on a bench in the park, watching (with jealousy) as little children parade around in all their glory and—

I have to go now—an adorable little girl (dressed as a cat) is tugging on my sleeves, telling me she's lost, and scared to go home alone. I'll walk her home.

_Later…_

_Would you believe this? _THAT SON OF A GUN! MANIPULATIVE, DEVIOUS, SLY, CUNNING. Well, maybe I should back up a bit. The girl was _absolutely _adorable. So I just listened to her little-kid babbling a while. I was distracted with them long enough that I didn't notice where she was taking me. Until she ceased speaking and announced happily, "We're home!"

I was _shocked._ I was absolutely _flabbergasted._ I thought, rather foolishly and naively, that I could just let her go, as I had escorted her far enough, but she dragged me towards the door with an _iron grip_. The door opened before we had gotten all the way up the steps.

"Bwother!" she exclaimed, pleased with her self, as she jumped up into the arms of the figure in the doorway. "I want my cookie now!" she demanded. He produced a cookie from his pocket and handed it to her, patting her head, and putting her back down on the ground. She frowned and jumped up and down, flailing her arms helplessly. He conceded and bent down so that she could place a kiss on his cheek.

During this exchange, I was trying my best to escape, but he gave me a look that said "Don't you dare try anything, now that I've gotten you this far." It was, all in all, quite the Halloween scare.

Thus, the little girl (correction: demon) skipped away happily, self-satisfied.

"You paid her off?" I asked, not sure what to think.

"Of course. How else was I supposed to get you over here?" he said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. I frowned.

"I'm leaving now."

He grabbed my wrist. "No, we have to work on the project."

I raised my eyebrow, "I'd rather not."

"You can have a cookie, too." He offered.

I frowned again, "you really think I can be bought off that easily?"

"Yes," he answered without hesitation.

_So this is his opinion of me…_ There was a pause. "What kind is it," I finally asked.

"Snickerdoodle."

I pretended to think about it. "Fine."

He nodded, as if he expected this all along, and opened the door for me, gesturing for me to go in. he handed me the cookie as I walked in. I unwrapped the plastic, and took a tentative bite; it would be just like him to have it be poisoned, and leave me incapacitated, so he could take over and do the entire project by himself. The delicious cinnamon taste was absolutely exquisite, not that I'd give him credit for it.

"I didn't bring any of my stuff," I pointed out, as he led me through a hallway.

"That's okay."

There was a pregnant pause. "How are we supposed to work if we don't have any of my work?"

He stopped, and I nearly ran into him. He turned to give me a look, "Your mother brought it over." He turned back around, and for that, I was glad, because my face was burning with embarrassment. I ground my teeth in frustration. Of _course_ she'd _still_ be trying to set me up with him, even though he was the "most disagreeable man she ever saw."

I couldn't imagine being with him, let alone wasting all my talent on partner projects with him. He ushered me into a large, spacious office.

The words escaped from the confines of my tightly pursed lips, before even my mind had begun to comprehend the notion. "Wow. This is gorgeous."

Indeed it was—tastefully furnished, plenty of desk space, and elegant cabinets, filled with books. I stared through the glass covering the cabinet, perusing the titles. Most of them were classics that I recognized. I was lost in my own world, fantasizing about hours that I could be spending reading the contents of the giant shelves.

"That's not even a small fraction of it; you should see Pemberly's library," he said in an off-hand way, as if this sizable collection was nothing at all.

"Pemberly?" I turned around, intrigued.

"Our house in England." That would explain the slight accent that I noticed. I never thought it garnered enough significance to deserve a mention in this journal. But now that it has been explained, and is germane to the current topic, I shall mention it here.

"How many houses do you have?" I joked.

His eyebrows knit together in thought. "Five at least, if you count the ones we actually live in."

My jaw dropped. And to say it with such casualness!

He continued, oblivious to my shock: "Well, there's this one in Hartford, so that's one, plus Pemberly, plus our summer house in France—"

"Wait, _what_?"

"I said there's this one in Hartford, Pemb—"

"How do you have so many houses?"

"They're not _my_ houses. They're all my father's."

"But still!" I protested feebly, sitting down fully comprehend his _wealth_. Mama wasn't lying when she said he was rich…

"Well," he said rather defensively, "father needs to travel a lot, and it's just more convenient to have a place to stay."

I nearly choked on my own spit. I was more convenient to _buy_ an entire house, than to stay in a hotel? They must have a _lot_ of money to burn, more than anyone in our family could ever hope to see.

But still, I would have to disappoint mama. There was no way I could marry someone for money. Imagine, committing myself for the rest of my life to a man I have sworn to hate!

"Hello?" he asked, waving a hand in front of my face.

"Sorry," I apologized for spacing.

"Here's your work so far. I already wrote corrections."

I stared down at the paper. It was _covered_ with blue-ink corrections. I scowled, as I disagreed with many. I opened my mouth to dispute the first one. It was the first dispute among many. There is no way to people of such different temperaments and opinions can be expected to reconcile their differences and work together. Absolutely no way.

_Later…_

When I got home, an amusing incident occurred, and I figure, since it made me laugh, I should write it down. Maybe it's the one highlight of the evening—because that horrible, arro—nevermind. He's not worth the time and the ink.

So… Lydia has dressed as a prostitute, literally. Mama fawned over how sexy her little daughter was, while I gagged, and Jane looked mildly uncomfortable. However, Papa's reaction was the best out of all of ours; he walked in, while Lydia was busy parading her costume to us, and asked very seriously, "Kitty makes a very nice witch, but Lydia, where's _your_ costume?"

Jane gaped, and I smirked, smothering laughter. Lydia and Mama both looked a little confused.

"But, Mr. Bennet! She is _wearing_ her costume!"

He raised an eyebrow, "Oh? Well, it's not any scarier than normal." And walked out.

I looked at Jane; she had gotten over her shock and was now giggling behind her hands. I pulled her out of the room before we collapsed, leaving Lydia fuming, and Mama still wondering _what exactly did Mr. Bennet mean?_

_November 7, 1996_

94! 94 is not a bad grade! It's only 6 off from perfection. What is _wrong_ with this kid? He is completely _diseased._ I suppose I ought to feel sorry for him. He probably has OCD or something. Or a superiority complex. Or both. I wouldn't surprised if he were clinically insane and depressed. And delusional.

WARNING: a mental-illness ridden person who is not fit to consort with the rest of society because he is socially incapable, and can also be considered a danger to others if provoked is wandering around, ready to attack.

But in all seriousness, what is his problem? I put in that much extra effort that I wouldn't put in otherwise if I didn't have both my mother and _him_ breathing down my neck. If he is going to blame _me_ for the whole grade, that means the grade belongs to me, and without me, he would have gotten a 0. I am just so glad this project is over. It's difficult working with a maniac.

Can you imagine? He called me the day before it was due, at 2AM. "How far are you?"

"I'm done."

"THEN SEND IT TO ME!"

After I sent it to him, it _still _wasn't good enough. Finally, I just gave it to him to fix, and clocked in at 4AM, sick of him obsessing over the details. Then he had the nerve to yell at me the next morning, asking why I had suddenly left, and why our telephones weren't working.

As if that weren't enough, the worst part was our presentation. He was constantly interrupting me, correcting what I said. In generally, being a _jerk._

On second thought, the _real_ worst part is his choice in literature. Imagine, not liking Harry Potter! How is that even possible? How can he say such a thing and not be smote by some higher power. He called it "tasteless and frivolous." I could easily say the same thing about him.

He's really creepy too. He's always looking at me. _Glaring _at me. What is his problem?

Lizzy smiled as she closed the book. Well, at least that wasn't a mystery anymore. _Really, people don't change. Same old… I dislike him as much as ever. Perhaps now I have even more reason to do so. And he has not changed in his fundamental flaws._

Nora leaped into Lizzy's lap and purred happily. Lizzy stroked Nora's head gently. She murmured to her beloved cat, "We're going away for a while… Someday we'll come back to this city…" She stared out of the window at the bright lights. She had loved the big city, loved it despite its flaws that she had looked beyond. There was just an air that she couldn't explain in mere words. It filled her up with… hope. This was a city of dreams and aspirations, under all the dirt and grime. _I'll come back. I'll come back as soon as I can. Hopefully, it won't be too long._

She closed a couple more boxes, wrapped up in her own thoughts as Nora skillfully got in her way, wrapping around her legs in a furry bundle that was hard to get rid of.

"Jane," she called out, "are you done?"

There was no answer. "Jane?"

Lizzy, slightly worried, stood up to look for her sister in the other room. Amidst packed boxes, Jane had fallen asleep. Lizzy smiled slightly, and put a blanket over her.

"Hmm… Charlie…" Jane murmured. Lizzy grinned wider, and left Jane to her own sweet dreams.


	9. A Strange Medley of Goodbyes

**A/N: Well, let's just say I wasn't going to write this originally, because I am busy slogging through my novel (alice-in-vunderland on NaNoWriMo (dot) org. You can stalk me there). But I was innocently taking a break and check my inbox. This is the lovely message I received: "WHEN R U GOING 2 UPDATE??!!??!!??!!??!!??!!??!!??!!??!!??!!??!!??!!."** **Needless to say, this frightened me very much. The extreme use of punctuation seemed to indicate underlying very passionate, and perhaps even violent feelings. For fear of being murdered in my sleep, I wrote this chapter. All in one day. Aren't you proud of me? Now… if I could apply those skills to writing my novel… **

**Thanks RedRose102! For your prodding. Yes. It was frightening, but it got me off my butt. (: Cheers!**

Chapter 9: A Strange Medley of Goodbyes

"Promise you'll take good care of Nora!" she pleaded one more time.

Charles smiled, "Of course I will. Uhm, a can of tuna for breakfast, and some kibbles for lunch, and same for dinner?"

"Water changes?" she prompted.

"Four times a day," he answered proudly.

"Where does she sleep?"

"Her special cushion."

"Make sure she's not lonely, or doesn't get bored. She will scratch up your furniture." At this, Caroline looked shocked. She made a movement to speak to Charles, when Jane spoke up.

"Lizzie, dear, I'm sure he quite understands all of Nora's needs very well by now. Besides, we won't be away for long. Remember, they'll drive over in time for New Year's."

Lizzie pouted slightly, turning her full, rose-colored lips out childishly. Jane smiled at her sister's antics, but paid no heed to them. Darcy, however, could not keep his eyes off. This, of course, did not escape Caroline's attention. She had been observing him for quite a while. And whenever he was away from Lizzie, and in the same room as Caroline, he seemed to be relaxed. But as soon as Lizzie left, he would become restless, flip through pages rapidly, not really reading them. He would pick up new books to read, dissatisfied with current ones. Lizzie, however, kept him with one book, although he did flip pages quite slowly. Caroline knew that all these signs (although she called them omens) did not portend well for her pursuit of the rich bachelor.

She frowned. He was not only rich, but young and attractive. How was it possible that he was not engaged, or at least in a relationship? Although she wondered at this, she was simultaneously thankful. It wouldn't do to have him obligated to someone else. It was always much, much more difficult to seduce man when he already had a woman, especially if he had some strange, twisted sense of duty towards her, that he wouldn't leave her.

So what was it about Lizzie? Caroline could perceive no extraordinary physical traits. She was mediocre in all respects. Not extraordinarily tall, she was a little more than average. Her face was average, as well, to Caroline's eyes. Her brown hair and brown eyes were so... /dull/. Caroline prided her own blue eyes; she knew that they were beautiful, and less common than such common, droll brown eyes. She could get all the alterations in the world: dyed hair, liposuction, botox, breast enhancements, nose jobs, and more, but she would never alter her eyes. Why could Darcy not see the attractiveness of /her/ eyes? Could he not tear /his/ eyes from Elizabeth's form for one second to really see her? Caroline Bingley was not accustomed to being ignored. Although he was incredibly eligible, his taste in women was questionable. Elizabeth Bennet indeed! Ha! Caroline snorted through her nose.

Charles turned to his sister. "What, you don't think so?"

Caroline looked at her brother. He was looking slightly bemused, with his eyebrows raised. Lizzie and Jane were also looking at her expectantly. "Sorry?" was Caroline's intelligent response.

Charles repeated his last statement carefully, as if to a child, "Don't you think Lizzie will make a valuable addition the the company?"

Her eyes lit up in understanding. Although, Lizzie rather thought that "lighting up in understanding" for her was increasing her IQ to 75. She smiled sweetly at Lizzie, her mouth stretched under many layers of lip gloss. Lizzie frowned as the lip gloss caught the light and reflected directly into her eye. She scowled, not just because of the light that had hit her eye.

"Of course, /dear/ Charles, I'm sure that Lizzie's talents will be an asset to /our/ company. Her skills will be very much valued." She put emphasis on "our" company, hoping that Darcy would take the hint to see that while Lizzie may have been a best-selling author, Caroline Bingley /owned/ a company! In fact, owned the company that owned Lizzie. She smirked in triumph, rather thinking she had one the argument, whether there had been one or not. However, Caroline cared little for numbers. They were too "droll" for her; she would always yawn to declare her boredom and wander off to do something more exciting. Thus, Charles had been stuck with the burden of an entire company on his shoulders.

But Darcy paid no attention to Caroline's well-thought up speech. His gaze was instead, fixed upon a certain brunette. Caroline ground her teeth in rage. She glanced at her watch impatiently. "Oh! Look at the time! We better get going; you two still need to get your things arranged and get through security! We wouldn't want you to miss your flight."

Jane smiled genuinely at Caroline's fake, cheerful grin, "Thanks so much for considering us so much, Caroline. I hope you'll keep in touch until you come visit us in Hartford!"

Caroline made a motion with her hand, as if to dismiss the idea she could /ever/ forget to keep in touch. "Of course, Jane. What else would I have to do but write you long letters of rapture?" Lizzie scowled. Jane was a great deal too oblivious to see Caroline's true character, nor would she see her for who she was.

Charles shuffled his feet awkwardly, his face flushing pink. Lizzie smiled, /he's adorable!/ She could tell that Charles wanted to speak to Jane alone.

"Uhm," she said very loudly, "Jane, I'm going to go get our boarding passes and check our luggage. You stay here and say goodbye to everyone."

Darcy, who had been a silent observer of the gathering until this point, finally spoke up (Caroline was seething). "I'll help you."

Lizzie sent a cool gaze over in his direction. "Thank you very much, but your chivalry is misplaced. We live in the 21st century, where women can carry their own luggage."

"Lizzie!" Jane exclaimed, "don't be so stubborn."

This statement didn't affect either of them in the slightest. "Yes," agreed Darcy, "we live in the 21st century, where we shouldn't let radical beliefs get into the way of carrying out our lives properly."

Lizzie raised an eyebrow, "Oh? And you're the expert on deportment now? And since when I have I been a radical feminist?" she challenged.

They stared at each other, saying nothing. When the silence and intensity of his gaze became slightly awkward for both of them, the simultaneously bent down to pick up the same piece of luggage. Their hands met in a collision of fingertips and leather. Lizzie pulled her hand back as burnt, and Darcy took the opportunity to pick up the suitcase. She scowled and picked up another. By the time she had gotten herself situated with pulling that suitcase, Darcy was already walking towards baggage check with the other two. Lizzie grimaced and hurried after him, her high heels making a loud clacking noise against the cold tiled floor.

Caroline immediately followed after Darcy, telling how kind it was for him to condescend and carry the luggage of... unworthier people for them. Darcy made no comment. She couldn't get a rise out of him.

"You like Lizzie," she claimed.

"I most certainly do not," he objected quite calmly, without changing his facial expression, "she doesn't know anything," he continued on, but before he could continue on, the sound of her high heels grew louder, and eventually, she burst out from behind him. He stumbled in surprise, but she just walked forward a rapid, very professional pace.

"Why," Caroline observed, still trying in vain to cast Lizzie in an unfavorable light, "she walks so quickly, hardly very ladylike..."

"I most certainly do not," he objected quite calmly, without changing his facial expression, "she doesn't know anything," he continued on, but before he could continue on, the sound of her high heels grew louder, and eventually, she burst out from behind him. He stumbled in surprise, but she just walked forward a rapid, very professional pace.

"Why," Caroline observed, still trying in vain to cast Lizzie in an unfavorable light, "she walks so quickly, hardly very ladylike..."

"I don't believe so," was Darcy's sole response. He wanted to push Caroline and make it apparent that he wasn't, nor would he ever be, interested in her, without making it rude. He hoped that if he just clearly displayed his unwillingness to enter in a relationship with her, she would away. But he was sorely mistaken. She didn't give up so easily. He increased his pace slightly; she trotted to keep up with his long legs. He ignored what she said for the rest of the way to the baggage check, but she didn't give up. He watched as Lizzie stopped in front of counter to pick up her boarding passes. She pulled out a piece of paper from her jeans--old, /ripped/ jeans, Caroline noted, and not artfully ripped, just sloppy. In fact, her entire appearance exuded an attitude of sloppiness, as if she didn't care about her appearance. Well... at least she got one thing right. Lizzie, with a practiced hand, quickly punched in her numbers and printed out two boarding passes, one for Ms. Elizabeth Bennet, and another for Ms. Jane Bennet. She headed quickly towards the bag check counter. Darcy caught up with Elizabeth as she was nearing the counter. As she spoke to the woman behind the counter, and put her suitcase on the scale, he strode up behind her, and leaning slightly over her shoulder, placed one other suitcase on the scale. She flinched as he leaned over her as the scent of his cologne hit her, in all its masculinity. She frowned, "Could you please step back a little?"

Darcy complied, "Sorry," he murmured under his breath. Lizzie did not hear, as she was busy talking to the woman. "We have three bags, but aren't we allowed to have two each?"

"Yes," explained the woman again, "but you have exceeded the weight limit." Lizzie frowned. "Let's try these two suitcases, then." She rearranged them, but they were still too heavy. She tried the last arrangement, but it was also too heavy. She cursed under her breath. Caroline did not fail to note this either. "How much is it?"

"Uhm," stalled the woman for a moment while checking the price, "it'll be a hundred forty dollars."

Lizzie reached to her side, before realizing that she had left all her carry on bags with Jane. She swore again. "I left my bags with Jane. Could you please wait while I just go get my purse?" Caroline smirked--/she/ would never be caught dead without a (designer) purse. Before she could even turn around, Darcy had already slipped several bills across the table. Before Lizzie could snatch them back in anger, the woman had already taken them. Lizzie whirled on Darcy, who was holding his wallet somewhat guiltily.

"Look, it's /my/ fault that I didn't plan this out well. You don't have to clean up my messes for me. If you really have that much money to waste and throw away, why don't you give it to someone who deserves it? Like a poor family in Africa, who doesn't even have access to clean water. Just think, if a single family lived on two dollars a day, that would have taken care of them for seventy days!"

"Your point...?" Darcy asked.

"My point... deal with your /own/ business, and keep your nose out of other people's." She glared at him meaningfully, and he gulped, getting the feeling that her advice didn't just extend the current situation. As she turned back his eyes traced her dark brown locks, spilling casually over her shoulders. They didn't look messy, nor did they look like they had taken a lot of effort. They just looked... effortlessly casual. He stared at them for a moment, forcing himself not to extend his gaze farther down. He almost smiled; he loved it when she was angry, more than any other emotion she displayed, and he knew just how to push her buttons. He suppose /she/ hadn't really changed, nor had his feelings for her, and the reasons behind them changed. However, he felt like something had changed in himself, going through a separation from his family, and his parent's death... Something had changed. Most of all, something had changed because of Lizzie's harsh words. They had helped him grow the most. And he had had all of college to mull over them, analyzing point by point where he had gone wrong, and where he could have done better.

The woman wrapped sticky tags firmly around the handles of the luggage before sending them off on a conveyor belt. Lizzie smiled at her, "Thank you very much! Have a nice day." The woman smiled back; it was rare in her day that she actually got someone who would show the slightest interest in her own well-being.

"You're welcome. Have a nice day, as well!" Lizzie turned, and jerked back; turning to find her face barely inches away from Darcy's chest was disconcerting. Had he been standing that close to her the whole time? She shivered and walked quickly and purposefully back to Jane.

She found Jane sitting on a bench with Charles, holding hands. Lizzie smiled. Her plans had been fulfilled completely, and worked out exactly as anticipated. She was so pleased with herself that she nearly forgot about the incident with Darcy, at least until she caught sight of her purse. She pulled it out, and grabbed her checkbook. One hundred forty dollars would almost deplete her account, after Collins had been through with it. She sighed. She wouldn't need money at her parent's house anyway, so it hardly mattered.

She wrote the check out, and handed it to Darcy. As soon as he realized what it was, he pushed it away.

"I don't need it. Besides, I ought to give back something to make up for past injuries."

Lizzie growled, "Take it! You don't have to be stuck in the past."

Darcy almost wanted to scream, "I wouldn't be stuck in the past if a beautiful someone wasn't holding me back in it!" But he said nothing, and took it. He didn't intend on doing anything but shredding it as soon as she got home.

"Let's go, Jane."

Jane gave one more hug to Caroline, and embraced Charles, who gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek. Lizzie grinned even wider, as Jane flushed an adorable pink. They broke away.

Charles promised, "I'll be there soon." Jane gave a dazzling smile, and Charles blushed. Lizzie felt very sorry to have to break up the pair.

"Jane, we really have to go now."

"Bye Charles," she said in a rather dazed voice.

"Bye Jane." He was just as dazed and dazzled.

Lizzie chuckled and waved goodbye to the trio, so different in their expressions: Bingley, looking quite in love, Darcy scowling, and Caroline turning the corners of her mouth down in disgust. They made such a comic scene that Lizzie couldn't help but laugh as she dragged Jane away. When they reached security, Lizzie decided to finally hand Jane a tube of lipstick.

When Jane looked at her questioningly, Lizzie winked and replied, "Your lipstick is smeared big-time."

**A/N: OOH PLEASE REVIEW (: You know how happy it makes me!**


	10. Homecoming

**A/N: Here I am! Back from the dead ;) I bet you thought I quit. NO WAY. I just have a lot on my plate, but I was determined to get this done for you in time for Christmas. I was planning a really long, lovely chapter, but somehow it didn't work out quite as I planned. But I will be doing my best to work on this, and keep you updated more regularly. Thank you to all of you who have stuck with me. I really appreciate your continued support!**

Chapter 10: Homecoming

Lizzy leaned against the window, drumming her fingers against the pull-down tray attached to the seat in front of her. She stared out longingly, the lower left corner of her vision obscured by a part of the plane's wing.

She was impatient to get off the ground. She didn't love flying, but she loathed waiting in anticipation, simply _waiting_ for something to happen, rather than being able to go out to get it on her own.

Jane smiled slightly, and gently covered Lizzy's hand, holding down her restless fingers. "Be patient, young one."

Lizzy frowned, "It seems like such an enormous waste of time, though. We claim to have no time in today's world to settle down and accomplish any real activities, like reading. Yet, we waste all this time, sitting in front of technology, or waiting for meetings. The whole process could be streamlined so much."

Jane smiled, "You cannot change the world with one stroke."

Lizzy glanced at her sister, "Ah, but I can just hope to do all that I can. Besides, I could form my own coalition, and we could fight this together."

Jane shrugged, "Whatever you like, dear, but it seems like rather a waste of time to create a coalition against wasting time. You won't get anywhere with your project, except promoting hypocrisy. Maybe you could create a coalition on promoting hypocrisy."

Lizzy laughed, "When did you get so pessimistic? You haven't said anything negative since you stopped practicing psychology."

Jane chuckled, "That's true… It's a little difficult to be completely optimistic if you deal with those kind of people all the time."

"How did you ever manage to do it? I don't think I could stand working with people like that."

Jane frowned, "I want to do my best to help them. Don't you even feel a little sad for them?"

"Perhaps, but no person can help all the people in the world. There are always going to be those people who are suffering from mental diseases, and you cannot help them solve all of their problems. It is just too taxing on your strength to do so."

"Ah, Lizzy, this is why you shut yourself away from people, with your internal cynic. It's just waiting at all seconds in the day to spring up and doubt the inherent goodness of the human soul."

Lizzy quirked an eyebrow, "Inherent… goodness? You can't actually believe that!"

"Of course, Lizzy. We can't all take on your pessimistic, cynical world view."

"Well, _Jane_, we can't all take your optimistic, naïve world view."

Jane shrugged, "You are entitled to your own opinion."

"And _you, _dear sister, are entitled to _my_ own opinion," Lizzy announced triumphantly, crossing her hands across her chest. The plane began to move backwards. Lizzy instantly uncrossed her arms and peered out the window. Jane fought to stifle a chuckle. Lizzy was still such a child.

"You're such a little kid," Jane remarked.

"Am not!" Lizzy protested.

"Are too!" Jane returned.

Lizzy opened her mouth and began to say, "Am n—," but she realized what Jane was trying to do. She crossed her arms again. "That won't work on me, Jane."

Jane pouted, "Of course it will."

Lizzy scowled, "I refuse to respond."

Jane laughed, "Because you can't think of one?"

"Of course not. It's because I'm too _good_ to respond. You are beneath my notice."

Jane patted Lizzy's head patronizingly. "Of course. That's exactly why you are talking to me right now."

Lizzy stared intently out the window, and leaned back as the plane began its taxi. The plane accelerated rapidly and she smiled; they were finally off. They would be home very soon. It seemed like a double edged sword… home. On one hand, she longed to see her father once again. It had been a very long time since she had seen him and the truth was, she missed him a lot. It would be nice to spend time with her family again, but then again, her family was… Lizzy couldn't think of a very good word to describe them. Eccentric? But again, every family was eccentric, so that word was hardly appropriate to describe the truth about her family.

She gave a little sigh. She couldn't expect her mother was very different. And with the indulgent lifestyle her sisters had grown up with, she could hardly expect them to have turned out very well. In a way, she was glad that she had grown up with more difficulties. She had learned much more that way. It was too easy to become spoilt and not learn to do anything on your own.

In fact, she reflected, her younger sisters weren't the only ones who were spoilt. Darcy had grown up extremely wealthy. If she had thought her sisters were spoiled, Darcy could only be much, much worse. He was used to getting whatever he wanted, and for that reason, was unable to cope with human interaction. She frowned.

"What are you thinking of, Lizzy?" Jane asked gently.

She shook her head, as if trying to clear her thoughts. "Nothing," she muttered.

Jane smiled knowingly. "You have a pensive expression on your face. You are never not thinking, my dear sister. Your mind is constantly whirring, analyzing. You are too much of a thinker. I might even go as far to say you are an _overthinker_."

Lizzy laughed, "I don't think so."

"You may continue to fool yourself Lizzy, but you are too rational, a trait you have inherited from our papa. You two are both very great thinkers. Allow yourself to free your emotions sometime, and give in to your passions rather than analyzing endlessly."

"Are you trying to tell me to 'follow my heart'?" Lizzy asked skeptically.

Jane chuckled, "Not quite, Lizzy. But at least, take risks sometimes."

"Coming from you?"

"Well, I took a risk in going to Europe and pursuing art, and look where it led me. I'm happy with what I'm doing now." She smiled.

Lizzy shrugged, "Me too."

Jane studied Lizzy very carefully. "You know what I think, sister?"

"What?" Lizzy asked curiously.

"I think you're not actually happy. You pretty everything's all right, but there's something you're missing."

Lizzy rolled her eyes, "I'm not missing _anything_."

"Perhaps you're only missing a ma—"

Lizzy cut her off, "If you mean Darcy, I definitely do not miss him. I don't _need _him. That idea is simply preposterous!"

Jane laughed. "If you say so, dear. If you say so."

Lizzy scowled and opened her bag.

* * *

_November 28, 1996_

_Thanksgiving—the day of horrors. As if our single unit of family wasn't enough, Aunt Phillips and company arrived at our place with the latest gossip. All of their chatter went over my head. I couldn't bother listening to her latest news. The feeling of my brain cells slowly dying was too much to bear; I escaped to my room. _

_The worst of it was that the Gardiners weren't even there to alleviate my suffering. How I miss Aunt Gardiner! It has been forever, it seems, that I have not had intelligent conversation, besides Jane, but she spends so much time working that I hardly get to see her. It saddens to me to know that she'll be going to college soon. I wonder what I'll do without her… I hardly have any friends except her and Charlotte. If she leaves, I'll be an alien in my own house because Papa spends so much time in his study just to get away from the other females in the house. I'll be alone at school because Jane there. Thus, my only solution is to be at the library almost constantly. It sounds like a terrific plan. _

_Hmm. I wonder when I became so sarcastic. But anyway, Thanksgiving isn't my only grievance. That _Darcy_ boy! I seriously want to strangle him sometimes; he frustrates me so much. He's so _competitive_ and always has to get the best grades and argue for points. Plus, he can get better grades in classes with female teachers (and some male teachers) through ass-kissing. Is it so bad that he gets one point less than me on an assignment? Honestly… _

_I feel like I'm complaining too much. Am I complaining too much. Argh. I must be going insane. Nobody's ever going to answer me. _

_Well, anyway, back to thanksgiving. The turkey was good, the mashed potatoes were good, the pumpkin pie was good, the stuffing was good, etc. All a credit to Mama's "wonderful management skills." Whatever. It doesn't matter so much to me what skills were involved, but rather, how the end result tastes. I believe Papa was just as bored as I at the dinner table. I caught him rolling his eyes more than once. Occasionally, he caught my eye and gave me a slight smile at the frivolity of the conversation. _

_I can only imagine what Christmas will bring… Hopefully, Mrs. Gardiner, with some sense to the whole place, finally. _

_December 1, 1996_

_Back to school… dull… dull… dull… dull… I feel like my brain is about to whither away from disuse. I don't even pay attention anymore; I work on a new story. I'll probably be able to finish it this year. I hope that I'll be able to get it published. That would be my dream. I could be an author. _

_I suppose I never thought really in depth about what I want to do as a career, and it's almost a frightening aspect that I will be going to college so soon. Jane has already decided her entire career plan. Charlotte, well, Charlotte always found her calling with books, and it didn't come as too much of a surprise that she became a librarian… not to be rude, or anything. _

_I guess I want to be an author, but I don't know if I have what it takes to make it. There are a lot of books that are waiting to be published, but very few filter through the system. It makes the odds seem a little disheartening. Well, at least I'll have an early start… right? _

_Anyway, to make school even worse, we haven't had a seat change yet. I'm literally dying for a seat change. And to write _ANYTHING_ in English is a challenge in itself. Darcy is always trying to read over my shoulder. But writing is personal for a reason. I don't think he gets it… He must be really thick. So I have to cover the pages of this journal, leaving only a small space to write each word. As soon as I complete the word, it is covered up. _

_

* * *

  
_

Darcy paced in front of the phone. He felt so restless. It had only been a few hours since he had left Lizzy in the airport, and he was already missing her. For so many long years, his emotions had been a torrid mess. Just when they had started to cool down, Lizzy was back in his life, ready to shake things up.

Now she was gone, and he felt… dissatisfied. But he wasn't sure for what. He had pretty much given up on any hope that she would change her mind. Ten years of moping around. Sometimes accepting the truth is more important than waiting around for empty hopes to fulfill themselves. He picked up the phone. And dialed.

A hundred miles away, a phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Richard."

"Darcy?"

There was silence.

"Yes."

"Darcy? Wh—wh—why are you calling? I haven't heard from you since… well, for a long time."

"I know."

More silence on the line.

"So, uh, why are you calling, Darcy?"

More silence.

"Darcy?"

There was a sigh from the other end.

"Look, Richard, I don't know how to say this, but I'm coming back."

There was a pause, then laughter.

"Darcy! That's great. I'm so glad. So are you—"

"I don't know," Darcy cut his cousin off. "I don't know. Where is Aunt Catherine?"

"England, still. Should I tell her?"

"No," Darcy said very quickly. "I mean, I'm really not sure. I'll come back for New Year's, but I won't be staying long. And I haven't agreed to anything yet, so just keep this quiet for now. A few of my friends are coming with me too, so I just need a place to stay. But it's not fair to Georgiana that I ignore her because of other issues. It's just not fair to her. I really don't know what I'm going to do yet."

"You know that if you agree that you'll have to marry Anne," Richard said cautiously.

"I know," was Darcy's simple reply.

"And you also know that I—that I," Richard was unable to complete his statement.

"Rich, I know. I've known for a long time. There are too many difficult choices to make, and I have no idea what I'm going to do."

"How are you doing?" Richard changed the subject.

"Fine," he lied. "How about you?"

"Fine, I suppose."

"You suppose?" Darcy questioned.

"Well, I guess I'm more or less well off, but there's something missing."

Darcy swallowed. "I know what you mean."

"Do you?"

He closed his eyes, and leaned his head against the wall, feeling the cool surface against his left temple. It soothed his headache slightly, but he still felt a pounding in his head.

"Yes."

"It's Lizzy, isn't it?"

He was reluctant to answer the question.

"No—I mean yes. I guess…"

Richard made a "hmm" noise, and their halting conversation rolled to another stop.

"Rich, so is it okay if I'm back for New Year's."

"Yeah, of course, Will. I—we really miss you."

"I know. Me too."

"So, uh, I'll see you then."

"Yeah, I'll see you soon, Rich."

"Okay, bye."

"Bye."

He hung up, and walked into his kitchen, poured himself a glass of gin, and sat down on his couch, mulling over the possibilities. Either way he chose, the consequences were unattractive. But he couldn't put off deciding forever. He sighed.

* * *

"What do you mean you never called them?" Jane asked, panicking.

"Well," Lizzy sighed, "I guess I just forgot."

Jane slapped a hand to her head. "That's pretty much the most important thing!" But she began to laugh.

Lizzy smiled. "Sorry, but you should have expected this. You can't count on me to do the things that I need to do."

"It's okay. We'll just get a taxi, and call them on the way. I'm sure they'll be thrilled to see us."

"That's a little worrisome though. Mom being thrilled isn't necessarily the best thing to ever happen to me."

"Okay, true, but let's just make the best of the situation and spend a nice Christmas with them. After all, we are mooching off them now."

"Well, Jane, _I _am, because of my own foolishness. You don't have to. Plus, even if you don't get your own apartment, there's always someone you could room with."

"Whatever do you mean, Lizzy?" Jane asked, blinking naively at her sister.

Lizzy snickered.

Then Jane's eyes widened in understanding. "What? No! Lizzy!"

Lizzy chuckled. "You are too innocent and oblivious, my dear sister."

Jane blushed. "You assume too much."

"I'm beginning to think that I assume too little."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Jane asked, confused.

"Nothing, nothing." Lizzy grinned.

"I'm still confused, Lizzy."

"That's good," Lizzy replied, still smiling.

"Lizzy," Jane said warningly.

Lizzy was about to reply, but she was interrupted by an announcement, letting them know that they were free to exit the plane, as long as it was done in an orderly fashion. Lizzy stood up and grabbed their carry-on luggage.

"Let's go," she suggested, pulling out her cell phone simultaneously. She quickly dialed the number, then as it rang once, she handed it to Jane.

"Maybe it is better if you talk to them. I mean, I haven't called home in ages."

Jane shook her head, pushing the phone back towards Lizzy. "No, you need to talk to them because they haven't talked to you in ages."

"But—"

"Hurry! They're going to pick up!"

Lizzy rolled her eyes and sighed in capitulation. "Fine." She held the phone to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Papa?"

"Lizzy?"

Lizzy broke into a grin. "Papa! It's me!"

"Lizzy! I haven't heard from you in so long! How are you doing?"

"Uh, I'm okay. But listen, Papa. Jane and I are at the airport right now. We're going to take a taxi home, so you should probably tell Mama to expect us."

"Nonsense. A taxi?" Mr. Bennet protested. "Let me pick you up."

"Uh, that's okay. It won't be necessary."

"Of course it's necessary!" he objected. "If I didn't pick you up, what kind of father would I be?"

Lizzy laughed. "Fine. But if you take too long, we're just going to hail a taxi."

"Agreed, then. I'll see you soon!"

Lizzy smiled. "Bye, Papa! I'll see you soon."

She snapped her phone shut. Jane smiled.

"See, that wasn't too difficult. You've shut yourself off for too long. I know that you've been covering up a lot of pain, and anger and bitterness. But sometimes, you can't lock yourself away from the world. There are people who love you, and would do anything to see you safe and happy."

"Are you trying to analyze me now, sister?"

Jane chuckled, "It wasn't my intention. But we can have a therapy session, if you insist."

Lizzy snorted, "As if."

"You know, I am qualified."

"Sure, sure. I'll keep that in mind."

"Be sure that you do."

They stepped off the plane together, and walked towards the baggage claim area. As they watched as the carousel spun, bringing new luggage around the conveyer belt, Lizzy suddenly said, "Tell me about Italy."

Jane looked at her sister, momentarily surprised. "Well, Italy's beautiful. The air feels so fresh, and it was a nice getaway, I suppose. But you have to come back to the real world sometimes."

Lizzy smiled. "Europe is lovely."

Jane nodded in agreement. "I painted a lot, and I love it. But I think I might go back to being a psychologist."

"But don't you want to paint?"

"I can always do that, but it's helping people that is my true passion."

Lizzy nodded. "I know. You are so sweet, and gentle, and kind, Jane. I sometimes wish I could be more like you."

"Likewise. I wish I could be as forward as you."

"Is that supposed to be a good thing?"

"Of course. You take risks and live life, while I always find some ways to hold myself back."

"But that is a display of good sense. I always take risks and end up losing."

"That's not true, Lizzy."

"It is."

They spotted their first bag and picked it up. They waited in silence until they had claimed all of the bags. When they had them all, they carefully grabbed the handles, and started exiting the airport. As they walked along, Jane suddenly spotted Mr. Bennet in the crowd of people, waiting for their loved ones to return for Christmas. He was holding a giant sign. "Welcome home, Bennet sisters!"

Lizzy smiled, and ran towards her father. "Papa!" she exclaimed, dropping her bags and throwing her arms around her father.

"My Lizzy! You have come home at last! It has been too long since I last heard from you."

"I know. I'm sorry."

He smiled. "It's all right. As long as you are here now."

As Jane walked up behind Lizzy, Mrs. Bennet, and her youngest three daughters stepped out from the crowd.

Lizzy glanced at them and whispered rapidly to Mr. Bennet. "You took them along, too?"

He sighed, and glanced at them. "They insisted. I couldn't say anything to dissuade them."

"Nothing?"

"You know how they are, Lizard."

Lizzy rolled her eyes. "Fine, whatever."

"And I think you should know, too, that Aunt Phillips is here for Christmas."

"No!" Lizzy exclaimed.

"Yes."

"Aunt Gardiner?"

"Nope. Sorry, Lizzy."

She felt like toppling over from devastation, but she remained standing. "All right. Let's do this, then."

He laughed. "There's my good ol' Lizzy."

She smiled. "Let's go."

She gestured to Jane, who disentangled herself from her sisters and mother.

"Lizzy!" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed.

"Mama," Lizzy said cautiously.

"I'm so ashamed! You haven't kept in touch!"

Lizzy resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "I'm sorry, Mama, but you know how the life of a famous author is."

"Still, Lizzy, that is no excuse for not keeping us posted. We're your family!"

"Yes, yes, _mother_, it won't happen again."

"My nerves! After so long of not knowing. My own child could be dead for all I knew!"

Lizzy continued walking without a response, smirking at her mother's ramblings. Nothing really had changed…

**A/N: I really did have a lovely Christmas chapter planned out! I'm really very very sorry that I didn't finish it. I'll try to get it done tomorrow. Maybe I'll have it out before or on Boxing Day? I'll do my best! Please review! **

**I hope all of you have a lovely Christmas/New Year. Or whatever you celebrate? Not to be uh politically incorrect? **

**Oh yes, please excuse any errors. I'm so sorry. No time for a lovely beta, and I barely proofread. **


	11. Christmas

**A/N: WAS going to upload in time for my birthday, but my d-bag of a father prevented my access to internet. So. Yeah. It feels awkward doing something for **_**you**_** on **_**my**_** birthday, thought that's what it should be (i.e. bringing cupcakes to school, but only little kids do that often?). Anyway, yeah. You don't have to wish me Happy Birthday, although it seems like I only wrote this to get well wishes. I DIDN'T. Okay, I don't know how to explain this. It's like, I wanted to give you a reason for uploading. Yes? Or no? I'm confused. Please review **

Chapter 11: Christmas

"And then, guess what he said?" Lydia asked excitedly.

Kitty looked just as excited. "What?" she asked, moving her hands in a ridiculous fashion. Lizzy sighed. She was bored. Very bored. Her body language made that obvious. She sat at the dinner table, her left elbow on the table, her hand supporting her chin, as she picked at her food.

"He said, that he _did_ like blondes!" Lydia announced.

The two girls shrieked and began flailing their arms about wildly.

"Settle down, girls," Mr. Bennet said sternly, eyeing his two youngest daughters with disapproval. They barely glanced at him.

"Like, oh my god! What did he say next?" Kitty screeched.

Mrs. Bennet and Aunt Phillips were leaning in excitedly, listening in on the conversation.

Mary and Jane were engaged in some sort of conversation. Lizzy saw that Jane was nodding very politely when appropriate. She nearly smothered a giggle. Jane was too much of a psychologist. She knew how she should behave to be polite, and kind, though she would never admit to anyone of she was bored, or disliked them.

"Tell me, Lizzy," Mr. Bennet interrupted her thoughts, "what have you been up to these years?"

Lizzy turned to her father. "Nothing much, really. I've been writing a lot. That's all really."

"Kept yourself out of trouble, have you?" her father stared at her from the tops of his glasses.

"Err, not exactly. You see, I just found out that my publisher has been swindling me, but due to certain legal complications, there's really not much I can do."

"The bastard! Collins?"  
"Yes."

"Why, there must be _something _you can do. Can't you leak this to the papers? Won't that ruin his reputation? Doesn't he work for that woman, what was her name?"

"Lady Catherine de Bourgh?"

"Yes, her. Couldn't she, as his superior, do something about it?"

"I doubt it," Lizzy admitted glumly, "I heard she's just as bad, if not worse than him."

"I thought she had a residence here. Isn't that right? We should set up a meeting."

"She's probably in England, though. That's how I first met Collins; he was with her on some order of business, and he heard that I was a writer, so I showed him some of my work. That's how I got my first contract."

"But you'll be living here, then?" Mr. Bennet asked.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"But you love New York!"

"Yeah, but I'll go back sometime. It's Jane who really has something in New York?"

"Oh?" Mr. Bennet looked curious.

"She has a _boyfriend_." Lizzy smiled.

Mrs. Bennet whipped her head around. "Jane? A boyfriend? What's his name? Is he handsome? Is he _rich_?"

Jane blushed.

"Charles Bingley," Lizzy announced.

Mrs. Bennet gasped, and her hands flew to the side of her face. "Charles Bingley? As in _Bingley Publishing House_?"

"The one and the same," Lizzy affirmed.

"Why, he's so rich! And not bad-looking either!"

Jane blushed even more deeply.

"I'm so happy for you, my darling Jane!"

Lizzy and Mr. Bennet snickered together.

Mrs. Bennet sighed dramatically, looking towards the ceiling, "If only I could have all my daughters so happily married."

"Mama, she's not married," Lizzy pointed out.

Mrs. Bennet frowned, "You mean, she's not married _yet_. With Jane's beauty and good nature, there can be no doubt that he would like to marry her."

"Mama! You flatter me too much," Jane objected.

"There can be no flattering for someone like you," Mrs. Bennet insisted.

Mr. Bennet looked very red from trying to suppress his laughter, and Lizzy was laughing at his efforts.

Suddenly, Mrs. Bennet turned to her husband. "What is it that has got you 'in stitches'?"

He immediately tried to calm himself. "Er… nothing."

Lizzy smirked.

"This is great news!" Mrs. Bennet was beside herself.

"He's visiting for New Year's."

"Oh my! Does he have a place to stay? He should just stay with us! We have a spare bedroom! Well, I would rather not clean it. He can just stay in Jane's bedroom."

"Ahem," Lizzy coughed, "I happen to share a bedroom with Jane."

"Why, that's perfect, then. You can use the spare bedroom."

Jane was crimson. "Mama, I think he will be staying with Will."

"Will? Who?" Mrs. Bennet looked confused.

"Will Darcy," Jane clarified.

"What? That man? That unpleasant, arrogant, disagreeable man?"

"The very one," Lizzy declared.

"What is he doing here? I thought he was kicked out of the family?" Aunt Phillips spoke up.

"Uhm, I don't know about that. But I think it's not our business," Jane pointed out.

"Why, of course it's our business. We have a right to know what's going on here!"

"But it's their personal business," Jane said.

"Nobody's business is personal in the end," Aunt Phillips waved her hand airily.

Jane frowned slightly, but said nothing.

"I don't suppose _you_ have a boyfriend, Lizzy." Mrs. Bennet sniffed.

Lizzy laughed, "I have no interest in attaining one, _mother_."

Aunt Phillips looked scandalized. "But you must intend on marrying!"

"Not particularly, actually." Lizzy shrugged. "I'm quite happy on my own."

"But you ought to have a husband!" she insisted. "How else will you support yourself?"

"You may not realize this, Aunt, but I am quite capable of supporting myself now," Lizzy said. "In this day and age, women are quite capable of independent living."

"But that is so—so—"

"So… what?" Lizzy asked.

"Improper!" Aunt Phillips finally managed.

"In the modern world, this kind of misogynist attitude is both impractical and no longer common accepted," Lizzy argued.

"Hmm," she turned her head away, clearly displeased with Lizzy's point of view.

Lizzy shrugged. Not everyone could agree with her, and she didn't mind. She wasn't asking everyone to agree with her. Besides, her aunt and mother were so old-fashioned. They hardly belonged in the 21st century…

"Well, uhm, I got you presents," Jane announced.

"Ooooh!" Lydia and Kitty screeched together. Even Mary looked up from her book. Mrs. Bennet frowned, noticing Mary's book.

"How many times have I told you not to read at the dinner table?" she asked in an irritated tone of voice.

"Must have been a thousand times by now, mother," Mary said, without putting down her book.

"Mary! This is a family dinner. You will put your book down, especially because this is a Christmas dinner," Mrs. Bennet announced firmly.

"Mom! I have nothing better to do at this table," Mary objected.

"You can eat, Mary. That's important."

"Don't lecture, Mom."

"Just let it go, dear," Mr. Bennet interceded. "It's Christmas."

Mrs. Bennet sighed, but made no objection to his request. "Let us go see your presents then, Jane."

She stood up, and the rest of the family followed suit. Jane pulled Lizzy behind her, and whispered, "They're from me _and_ you."

Lizzy looked confused for a second, but she finally understood. "What? No, I can't; you're the one who put all the effort, thought, and money into buying the presents. I can't take credit for this."

"Mom's going to yell at you if you didn't bring her a present."

Lizzy sighed. "If she's going to yell at me, then so be it."

Jane frowned. "Oh come on, Lizzy. It's Christmas!"

"So?"

Jane rolled her eyes, "You're like a Grinch, or maybe a Stooge. Possibly both. This cynical mentality could only be a cause of—"

"What_ever_," Lizzy said, "if you really miss psychoanalyzing, I would suggest returning to the industry."

Jane smiled. "Maybe I will. Weill you be my first patient?"

"Definitely," Lizzy smiled brightly, before adding, "not."

"Maybe you could analyze the effects love has on Charles Bingley's behavior," Lizzy suggested cheerfully, "or what made Caroline into such a sick and twisted bitch."

Jane gasped. "Lizzy! That is so unkind of you. Caroline has been perfectly gracious. You have no reason to say that about her."

Lizzy laughed, "So you think. It's hard for you to see people's true characters when you believe the best of them. That is a failing for psychologists."

"Lizzy, I see people's true characters quite clearly. But I always do not allow my opinion of them to be stained until something concrete happens, and even then, I can empathize, because I may be aware of the causes of such a character."

Lizzy sniffed. "I shall not argue with you anymore."

Jane smiled, "Then help me carry the presents." She handed Lizzy a few boxes, and took several for herself. Lizzy rolled her eyes and gave a great, heavy sigh. She took them anyway. They carried them together into the room, and were greeted with squeals of happiness. Lizzy, seeing that Jane was watching her, made a conscious effort to smile.

---

Darcy lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. What a pitiful Christmas he was experiencing. His boss had spent Christmas eve with his sisters, and he had declined the invitation, feeling it would be intrusive to sit in on a family dinner. He felt so _useless_ and friendless. He had no friends to get drunk with on the holiday, nor someone to come home to.

Suddenly, he began wondering what exactly he had accomplished with his life. Absolutely _nothing_. If one took the career-centered approach to life, he had done nothing; he had been given the chance to head an entire _company_, yet he had given it up to pursue a girl. But if one favored the idea, "love is all you need," he had failed entirely in that category as well. Lizzy was no closer to being his as she was ten years ago, and if he followed through with his plan, she may be forever not his. He shuddered slightly at the thought. The concept of living his whole life without her seemed utterly foreign, but it scared him to realize how likely it could be. She had always been that _presence_ in his mind, despite distance and time.

Feeling his resolve crumble, he grabbed the phone, and dialed a number.

The phone rang precisely three times before it was picked up.

"Hello?" said a female voice.

His stomach did a little flip as he heard her voice.

"Hello?" she asked.

"Uhm," he managed to say articulately.

"Who is this?" Lizzy asked. Her voice sounded irritated, as if she had no more patience.

"This Darcy," he told her very quickly, slurring together "this" and "is." He winced, and could almost hear her frowning.

"Why are you calling?" she snapped.

"Uh, did you get there all right?" he asked, feeling very self-conscious.

"Yes, I did, as a matter of fact."

There was an awkward silence.

Then, in the background, he heard, "Lizzy? Who's calling you? We're about to open presents!"

Then he heard a sigh and a grumble.

"Wait! I know you're not going to want to open presents with them, right? So just use me as an excuse not to," Darcy said desperately, almost pleading.

She sighed again. "Everyone has ulterior motives. Can't escape the human race," she muttered.

"The best idea, therefore, is to use you as an excuse," Darcy's heart lifted, "and to hang up. Then I get the best of both worlds," she decided.

"But you'd be lying," Darcy pointed out.

"Since when have you had such scruples about lying?" she challenged.

His voice became cold, "And since when have I not." He didn't wait for an answer. "Oh, wait, I forgot. In your eyes, I am a liar. Right? Because you are _stubborn_, and believe only what you want to believe. Would you take even a second to acknowledge that you are wrong? Or at least, step back to evaluate the truth. You can't call yourself a writer, if you can't even understand basic motives. How can you construct a convincing argument as a novel, and make people believe?"

His words stung. They really did. And it wasn't the first time she had been told that. Her college professor had once told her that her writing was flat, and her characters were often unbelievable.

"And the whole reason that your writing is so _flat_ is that you cut yourself off from other people, so you can't even begin to understand human relationships," he nearly shouted into the phone.

She snorted, trying to disguise how much the words cut into her ego. "What about you? You couldn't even get along with your parents while they were still alive, and what about Wickham? And you had to _force _me to go out with you because you couldn't get a girl."

"Wrong again, I couldn't get a _particular_ girl to go out with me, and that was only because she was so obstinate and just _bad_ at relationships. It's no wonder she turned out to be the loner who could only sit in the library reading books. What companionship do books give you in the real world?" he challenged.

Tears filled her eyes as she yelled into the phone, "Well, at least I'm good at something. You're only good at making people feel like dirt." She hung up the phone, and wiped her eyes, dashing upstairs while yelling some excuse to Jane.

Darcy remained in the same position for a moment, then let go of the phone, not caring as it clattered to the floor. He stared at it for some time, running over the conversation again and again in his head. Why did things always go so, so wrong around that girl? He couldn't get a single thing right. Was it true? Did he make people feel like dirt? It was a sobering thought, but very possibly true.

In fact, he wondered why he had not realized this before. It seemed glaringly obviously now that she brought it up, and he frowned as instances were recalled. Instances that could only prove her right. He wanted to call her, and apologize for his harsh words. He knew that she could be very fragile sometimes, and he wanted to apologize, and beg her forgiveness for the hurt he had probably caused her. But some part of him was arrogant enough to suppose that he was right, and she was wrong, and probably deserved the criticisms she received. So he did not redial.

----

Lizzy lay on what used to be her bed. It was now Mary's and was surrounded by piles of books considered to be dry enough and "educational" enough for her to read. She almost wanted to call back and apologize for saying such harsh words, but her pride would not allow her to apologize for the criticisms that he probably deserved. She did not redial.

**A/N: I'm so sorry it's a short chapter, I just don't have motivation. And I'm super tired. So so sorry. I don't want to quit, so at least this is better than quitting, right? Please review!**


	12. A New Year

**A/N: So it's really late at night. My coherence level: 10%. Sorry if things are inconsistent. Time since I last wrote: 2 months. Excuses: none. Special request: Please forgive me!**

Chapter 12: A New Year

"Will!" shouted Richard Fitzwilliam.

Darcy got out of the car and smiled. "Richard! It's so great to see you again." They closed the space between them. Richard embraced his cousin in a friendly man-hug.

"Don't stay away for so long, next time. It's too cold to completely ignore your family. Georgiana's missed you. She's practically been asking for you every few minutes since I told her you were coming back."

"I'm sorry," Darcy apologized. "It's just been so crazy. Anyway, this is Charles Bingley, remember from college? Anyway, he was kind enough to employ me while I'm trying to sort out my career."

Charles laughed. "It is no kindness. I would keep you longer if I could. You are a talented lawyer. This is my sister, Caroline."

Richard smiled, and shook both their hands. "Pleasure to meet you. Why don't we go in, now? Georgiana will be waiting."

Caroline smiled, "Will, I simply can't _wait_ to meet your sister," she simpered.

"That's good," Will replied very stiffly, "I hope you two will get along."

"I'm quite sure we will," she said.

As his cousin walked towards the door, Richard grabbed his arm, and in a low voice, said, "Will, you know that Lizzy is in Hartford, too, right?"

"Yep," Darcy replied.

Richard gaped. "Don't tell me, you came here to see her?"

Darcy rolled his eyes. "Bingley is her editor. She got evicted from her house, so she's staying in Connecticut for now. We've only come over so that Bingley can talk to her about her new manuscript. I've only tagged along because I actually have somewhere to stay here, and I'm his new lawyer and friend." He paused. "Besides," he added on second thought, "I've decided to give her up."

Richard turned to look at his cousin. "Does that mean you're going to come back to the family?"

"Not if it means breaking your heart, no. I'll make it on my own, alone."

Richard stared at his cousin. "That's too—" He was interrupted as flash of gold streaked past him and rammed into his cousin.

"Will!" it shouted.

"Georgiana," Will greeted his sister. She was clinging to him almost pitifully.

"I've missed you so much," she said sadly.

"Me too. I'm so sorry, Georgiana. Life just go into the way and messed everything up. I should have been there for you, but I've been so far away, and it really just is so unfair to you, and I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, sort of. But still, you should stay longer this time. In fact, just stay forever. Or at least, if you really _have_ to go, take me with you."

Darcy smiled. "I can't make any guarantees, but I'll try my best."

"Thanks," Georgiana smiled. Disentangling herself from her brother, she caught sight of Bingley and his sister. She became suddenly shy.

"Hi, my name is Georgiana," she said very quietly.

Bingley smiled. "I'm Charles Bingley, and editor, and this is my sister, Caroline Bingley."

"Nice to meet you," she murmured. "I hope you'll like it in Hartford."

"I'm sure I will," he smiled.

"Georgiana!" Caroline smiled very falsely, "it's so _lovely_ to finally get to meet you. I've heard so much about you! You are just as beautiful as I had imagined. You must be in… let's see, junior year?" she asked.

"Senior," she corrected.

"Why," Caroline brought a hand up to her mouth, as if shocked, "you will be graduating this year!"

Georgiana nodded.

"Do you know which college you are going to, yet?"

Georgiana shuffled her feet. "I'm not sure, yet. I would go to Cambridge," she glanced at her brother, who smiled encouragingly, "but England is so far away."

"It's okay, Georgiana, you don't have to make a decision yet. We'll figure something out."

Georgiana smiled, reassured by her brother.

Bingley interjected here, "Sorry to interrupt, but I need to go call Lizzy to sort out a few things so we can get started on her new contract right away."

Georgiana looked at him. "Lizzy? She's here?'

Darcy nodded.

She smiled, "Then why don't we invite her over to celebrate the New Year? I haven't seen her in so long, and she was so nice to me!"

Darcy coughed rather nervously. "Well, uh," he began. Caroline looked sharply at him. Georgiana looked expectant.

"Of course we can," Richard exclaimed, "Jane's in town, too, right? Let's invite her over too."

Bingley smiled unconsciously, but it did not escape his sister's careful notice. She frowned, sure that she was going to have to find some way to get rid of Jane Bennet.

---

"Charles _Bingley_ is in town? And has invited _you _to his house to celebrate the New Year's?" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed.

"Correction: Charles Bingley is in town on business with Fitzwilliam Darcy, his lawyer. Darcy has invited _us_ to discuss business," Lizzy said.

Mrs. Bennet scowled at her daughter. "Business? Don't be silly. What possible reason could someone want to discuss business for?"

"Well, I don't know mother, but what if you just happened to be a businessman?" Lizzy retorted.

Mrs. Bennet laughed. "Then why would he invite Jane?"

Jane mumbled, "I don't know."

Lizzy smiled slightly. _Ah, Jane,_ she thought, _she still has no idea what he looks like when he is with her. He is totally different, and he definitely does not have business in mind when he speaks to her._

"You must walk there, or take the bus. I will not allow you to take a car," Mrs. Bennet announced very firmly.

She laughed. "Walk there? Why would we walk there?"

"Why, isn't it obvious? It is about to rain, and if you walk, you might have to stay there, and then, who _knows_ what will happen then?" she exclaimed excitedly.

Lizzy rolled her eyes.

"Mama, I'd rather not," Jane said rather cautiously.

"Why, dear, of course you _must_ walk," Mama insisted rather forcefully.

Lizzy protested, "Mama, I can't believe how ridiculous you are being! Just let Jane and Charles work it out on their own. If you saw them together, you would know that they need no help."

Jane blushed, and murmured, "You assume too much, Lizzy."

"Oh stop it, Jane. Surely it must be quite evident that he is quite taken with you," Lizzy smiled.

Mrs. Bennet sighed. "If you are very sure of this, then I suppose it is not right for me to interfere."

Jane smiled slightly, but her expression revealed her insecurity, though neither her mother and sister noticed, as their attentions were focused elsewhere.

She turned her face away slightly with a frown, unwilling to show a less than joyful face to her sister and mother. Lizzy, seeing this slight motion, noted it, but remained silent because of the less than desirable company in the room. She would discuss this later with her sister.

Mrs. Bennet, completely oblivious to the subtleties going on in the room, continued to chatter about the wedding she would plan for Jane, and how ravishing Jane would look, and how rich they all would be if she mattered Charles Bingley.

Suddenly, she sprang on Lizzy, "What about Will? Didn't you two date in high school? Why didn't it work out?"

Lizzy frowned. "Darcy and I have no desire to date each other. And even if it were not for that, I hope you haven't forgotten that he has practically been disinherited by his family. Thus in terms of your ambitions, there is no reason for me to have any relationship with him, other than acquaintances and colleagues."

Mrs. Bennet frowned. "If he were still so rich…"

Lizzy laughed, "In the end, there is no way to succeed in this world except through your own talents and endeavors. In relying on others, you are destroying your own capacity to survive independently. And once you grow used to that dependence, you become something like a vine that has no will or means to stand on its own. Once the stake that has held the vine is removed, it falls to the ground, and will not rise again."

Mrs. Bennet looked confused. "I don't understand how vines are related to marriage. Lizzy, dear, I think you should stop thinking so much."

Lizzy laughed. "Whether I think or not should not be a concern to you. In the end, you have nothing real to worry about."

Mrs. Bennet looked indignant. "The welfare of my daughters is something real to worry about! Perhaps you have no idea of your own, but children, especially daughters, are so difficult to raise!"

"You have to worry about their dowries, and make sure all their petticoats are in order. I understand, Mama, that such a heavy burden falls upon your shoulders. I apologize for being so difficult." She stood, and walked out of the room, saying as she went, "I shall go prepare for the party now."

Jane smiled at her mother and followed her sister. Mrs. Bennet sat still for a moment, wondering what had transpired, and what it meant. After a moment, she shrugged, and she too stepped out of the room.

"Jane," Lizzy addressed her sister as soon as she stepped into the room. Jane hovered by the doorway nervously. "Jane," Lizzy said again, "what's wrong?"

Jane smiled, "Nothing."

Lizzy crossed her arms. "Jane, you can't fool me. I know you too well."

"It's just," Jane began. She stopped, and sighed. Lizzy waited. "It's just, even though it looks like we're dating, but I feel like he prefers you over me. I've looked at his body language, and every time he talks to you, he's always really enthusiastic, but he's much more reserved with me," Jane said. "And it's, it's also just something Caroline said."

Lizzy arched an eyebrow.

"She said that Charlie has dated quite a few girls in the past, but they weren't that serious. The relationships were so quick. I don't want to be just a fling for Charles. And I feel like I'm in danger of really falling in love here. I don't want to be too invested, only to have him dump me," Jane concluded miserably.

"Aw, Jane," Lizzy stepped across to her sister and put an arm around her. "I'm sure that you are definitely not 'just a fling.' If you saw what I saw, you truly would not believe that. Also, Charles is a man very into his work, so obviously, he would be excited about having a new, brilliant author to work with." Lizzy smiled. "But of course, new, brilliant authors can hardly compare to smokin' hot painter-psychologists."

Jane smiled slightly, though it looked unconvincing still.

Lizzy patted Jane's shoulder. "Have more confidence in yourself. You are beautiful, inside and out, and he knows it."

Jane nodded. "Thanks, Lizzy."

"Let's get ready," Lizzy smiled.

"Yeah," Jane murmured.

---

The doorbell rang.

"They're here!" exclaimed Charles Bingley.

"They're here," drawled Caroline Bingley.

"They're here," Darcy thought glumly.

"They're here," thought Georgiana rather nervously.

"I'll get the door," Richard Fitzwilliam stood up.

Charles Bingley fidgeted nervously, happy that he would see Jane again. Darcy, on the other hand, was completely cool. What had happened had happened. He would deal with it accordingly. He would treat Lizzy as a colleague, and their exchanges would be civil and pleasant. He had decided it to be so, so it would be so.

"Richard! So wonderful to see you again," Lizzy's voice floated towards the living room.

"It's been so long," Jane added (Bingley's heart fluttered slightly at this).

"Misses Bennet," Richard replied, "so good to see you again. I trust that you have been well these past few years."

"Very well, thank you, and you, good sir?" Darcy could hear the smile in Lizzy's voice.

"All the better, now that you two lovely ladies are here," he replied.

Jane and Lizzy laughed.

"Come on," Richard said, "everyone's in the living room."

The three sets of footsteps approached. Caroline Bingley's lips turned down in a disgusted frown. How distasteful the two elder Bennet sisters were, particularly the younger one. But this idea mostly stemmed from her jealousy of the sister, rather than any perceptible fault, for Caroline Bingley was a simple minded creature, yet she could be conniving in her own right. For her actions were selfish and often malignant.

Darcy did not admire Caroline Bingley. He felt her to be too petty, and her little jealousies and possessiveness to be incredibly annoying. And in his mind, he had to prevent himself from comparing Caroline to Lizzy. But inevitably, his dissatisfaction at any woman stemmed from the inferiority he perceived them to have, in comparison to Lizzy Bennet.

And perhaps, he thought, he might never get over this one woman, but at least it was better to try to forget, than to remain unrequited for the entirety of his life. Almost all his resolved was abandoned once she walked into his line of vision. Although she had not taken any particular effort to look good (he couldn't stop himself from noting that Caroline Bingley had spent nearly two hours in her room, carefully applying makeup, yet she still looked like a raccoon with puffy lips), Lizzy looked effortlessly, casually beautiful.

Of course, he rationalized, this had nothing to do with his past feelings for her, because he found the other Bennet sister just as beautiful. But maybe, just maybe, the reason he felt more attraction towards Lizzy, was because he was not that into blondes. Of course, that had to be the reason. There was no other explanation for it!

"Jane!" Charles Bingley stood up.

"Charles," Jane smiled hesitantly.

"I trust that you had a very nice Christmas," he said politely.

She smiled again, "Yes, thank you. I hope that your Christmas was just as lovely," Jane replied.

"It was," he replied. For another few moments, he stood in the same spot, grinning like an idiot. Lizzy and Richard smirked slightly, identical expressions on their countenances. When they caught each other's eye, they did not hesitate to smile knowingly at each other. This exchange did not go unnoticed by Darcy's sharp eyes (of course, he had not been deliberately looking at Lizzy, he was just observant, and liable to observe the subtle behaviors and expressions of everyone in the room, not just a certain young lady).

Caroline Bingley, who, like Georgiana, had remained quiet until now, was beginning to resent the lack of attention lavished on her, and coughed slightly. "It is so very good to see you again, Jane and _Liz_."

Lizzy winced slightly at the new nickname assigned to her.

"I'm so glad to see you again, Caroline!" Jane greeted very genuinely.

"As am I," Caroline drawled. The boredom in her voice was so blatant that Charlie blushed slightly with embarrassment at his sister's tactlessness. Richard glanced at Darcy, and raised an eyebrow. Darcy shrugged, as if to say, "She's always like this. It only gets worse."

"We need to talk later," Richard muttered out of the side of his mouth to Darcy.

"About what?" Darcy whispered back.

"Things," was as specific as Richard wanted to go.

Out loud, Richard remarked, "How about we have a little dinner?"

"Sure," Jane and Bingley agreed simultaneously, in the same bright tone of voice. They glanced at each other for a second, and then cracked up. The rest of the party, minus a few (i.e. Darcy and Caroline), did not even crack a smile. They relocated towards the dining room, where placards indicated the prearranged seating arrangements.

Richard smirked slightly as Darcy turned to look at his cousin in horror. He was seated between Caroline Bingley and none other than Elizabeth Bennet. Richard gave a wink, and assumed his own seat on the other side of the table, to the right of Charles and Jane. Georgiana sat on the other side of her cousin.

"So you have been in Hartford all this time?" asked Lizzy, across from Richard.

"Pretty much. After Will left for Oxford, Aunt Catherine pretty much decided to relocate me here, because of guardianship issues." He glanced at Georgiana, who smiled nervously.

"Georgiana! You have grown up into quite a beautiful young lady," Lizzy smiled warmly, for she was quite fond of the girl. In fact, she reflected, on the whole, the Darcy family wasn't too bad, with the exception of Darcy himself. "I trust that you have been well these past few years?"

"Yes, very, thank you," she replied shyly. "It has been so long since I have seen you, and I'm glad that you are back in Hartford now."

"I, too, am glad to be back home," Lizzy proclaimed. "You must be, what, seventeen?"

Georgiana nodded.

"And how is school?" Lizzy inquired.

"It's all right," Georgiana admitted.

"Just all right?" Lizzy probed.

"Well, it does get a little lonely for me."

"Don't you have any close friends you can rely on?"

"Not really," Georgiana confessed.

"That really is too bad," Caroline broke in, "you are _such_ a wonderful girl, I can't see why you aren't the most popular girl in the school." Her voice was dripping with such syrupy sweetness that Lizzy could hardly prevent herself from making a face. It was so apparent, that Caroline did not fail to notice this.

"Do you have something to say, Liz, _dear_?" Caroline sneered, "I don't suppose you had any friends in high school."

Darcy swallowed nervously. He was in a bad position if the women on either side of him chose to start a fight.

Lizzy smiled calmly and replied, "I suppose if you want to count number of friends, I am in no way equipped to compete with you. However, if you would like to investigate quality, rather than quantity, I believe that you will find that that the friendships I have made in my life are deep and long-lasting. I would prefer not to have superficial acquaintances that I can use and manipulate at my will, or if you will, 'groupies.'"

Caroline's brow furrowed in anger. "I believe you are simply jealous that you weren't the most popular in school," she retorted.

"On the contrary," Richard interrupted, "I believe it was a close tie between which of the elder Bennet sisters was the most attractive. Though perhaps, Lizzy's continual rejection of many of a hopeful young lad," here, he glanced at Darcy, "led to the increasing value placed on her heart. Many had tried to win her heart, but none succeeded."

Darcy's stomach flipped, and his heartbeat betrayed him, if anyone were to feel his pulse. But fortunately, there was no one to do that. But Georgiana, having known her brother for so long, noticed his agitation, and nudged Richard slightly in the ribs. He took a quick look at her, and understood her meaning.

"Lizzy," Georgiana ventured, "I heard from my brother already about the circumstances surrounding your return to Hartford, and I hope you will accept my well-wishes."

"Of course," Lizzy smiled.

"I was also wondering," Georgiana began.

"Yes?" prompted Lizzy.

"Will this… incident delay the release of your next novel?" she finished.

"I don't believe it will," Lizzy replied, "my work it pretty much on track. I have merely switched to a better publisher." She turned to look at Bingley, who was engaged in conversation with Jane. He was smiling broadly, and Jane, too, looked very happy. Lizzy's worries were relieved slightly when she saw how happy Jane was, although to the outside observer, she knew that Jane must look very cool, and apathetic. However, as her sister, Lizzy knew that Jane was only being cautious not to wear her heart on her sleeve, for fear of being too much invested, and losing too much.

Sensing that he was being discussed, Bingley broke away from his conversation with Jane to see Lizzy looking at him. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing," Lizzy laughed, "nothing, continue on."

He looked a little confused, but did as she said, turning back to continue his conversation with Jane.

"I'm so glad," Georgiana said, "I have been reading your work for several years now. I'm so honored that I know such a talented author in person."

"The honor has been all mine," Lizzy protested. "I am completely sure that your life will amount to something even more significant than mine has."

Georgiana blushed, "I am not sure of that."

"Have more confidence in yourself," Darcy reassured his sister.

"Listen to Lizzy," Richard added, "Lizzy is always right."

Lizzy chuckled. "Most of the time, but not all."

"Of course," Caroline interrupted, "there is hardly a woman who can be infallible, or perfect. Isn't that right, Mr. Darcy?" She turned to him.

He swallowed nervously. "That is correct, Caroline," he answered stiffly.

"There is a great deal to be comprehended in the subject of an accomplished woman," Caroline remarked confidently.

Richard snickered¸ but Caroline did not notice. "Indeed," he added, "in today's world, so much more is required of the modern woman, besides cooking, cleaning, and rearing children. There are so many more professional achievements for the twenty-first century woman."

"What amazes me," Charles Bingley broke in, "is how women these days have so much time to be as accomplished as they all are."

Caroline snorted, "All accomplished? Why, Charles, what_ can _you mean by that?"

"Why, they have to take care of household affairs, manage their own career, and still have time to be caring mothers."

"Your estimation of accomplishment," Darcy interrupted, "may be true, but I personally believe the term 'accomplished' is applied to liberally, and those who do not deserve the adjective are often bestowed with it. I cannot boast to know more than, say, half a dozen women that I would truly call accomplished."

"I am of the same opinion," Caroline agreed.

"Then," Lizzy observed, "you must comprehend a great deal in the notion of an 'accomplished woman.'"

"Yes I do," acknowledged Darcy.

"Certainly!" Caroline butted into the conversation again. "She must be knowledgeable in many fields, fluent in several languages, have a knowledge of music, be well educated, but in addition to this, she possesses a certain something in her air and manner of walking, in all aspects of her behavior, a certain elegance, to be truly called a gentlewoman." Clearly, she was of the opinion that she fit all the requisites of an "accomplished woman."

"And besides all of this," Darcy added, "she must also have a certain strength of will and mind, in addition to the improvement of her mind through reading."

Lizzy raised an eyebrow. "I see. Now I am no longer surprised at your only knowing six accomplished women. I now begin to doubt that you know any."

Darcy swallowed nervously. _There is at least one in this room at this very moment. Though I could never admit it to her face_.

"Are you so cynical that you doubt your own sex?" Caroline inquired.

"I never heard of such a woman, if even if there were one, I would begin to wonder how she was able to attain so much time to become so well-educated, and who exactly would have forced into such outdated ideas. Women no longer have to be perfect. I don't believe that we are held by the same standards that the women of the past were. We are no longer restrained as much by stigmas of society, although we are not entirely free from the remnants of patriarchy in our society. However, we are moving along, and slowing progressing to an age where men and women can see each other as equals, and recognize each other's virtues and vices." She paused. "Pardon me, but I will excuse myself from the table one moment. I forgot something in the car."

Richard nodded. She stood, pushing her chair back, brushing Darcy's shoulder momentarily. He shivered slightly, though she was oblivious to this.

As soon as she had gone from the room, Caroline Bingley remarked, "Lizzy Bennet is one of those girls who seek to improve her own image through degrading the values of others."

Georgiana sat rather uncomfortably, unsure how to respond to such a remark. In the end, she kept silent because there was no way to answer without being rude. Richard, on the other hand, was trying very hard not to laugh. His face was quite red from suppressing his mirth.

Darcy, on the other hand, had an enigmatic expression on his face. If the expression on his face were hard to decipher, his thoughts were possibly impossible. Even in his own head, they made no sense.

In a moment, Lizzy returned to the room. She was carrying two bottles of wine. "Here we are, to ring in the New Year," she announced cheerfully.

Spotting Georgiana, she paused, "Except you, Georgiana, dear, you'll have to wait a few more years, although I suppose it is all right to have a sip or two, if you have the permission of your brother." She glanced at Darcy, who berated himself for being like such a schoolboy. Really, he was being too immature. Even so, he couldn't stop himself from regressing in her presence.

"Of course," he murmured, still a little dazed.

"It's fine," Georgiana politely declined.

"Are you sure?" Lizzy asked. "Only chance this year!"

"Yeah, I'm sure. Thanks, though," Georgiana replied.

"All right, then."

Richard had brought over some wine glasses and proceeded to place on by each of his guests, with the exception of Georgiana. He handed a corkscrew to Lizzy, who proceeded to expertly remove the corks from the bottles. She then poured a small amount of wine into everyone's cup.

They toasted to the New Year, and drank deeply. As the night progressed, they became more rowdy, due to the alcohol they consumed. Eventually, they relocated to the living room.

Sitting had become a bore to Caroline, who stood suddenly, and invited Lizzy to "take a turn about the room." She complied, inviting Georgiana, who politely declined; she was reading on one side of the sofa with Richard.

Darcy looked up; Caroline had succeeded in her aim to gain his attention. She smiled, and invited him to join their party.

"No thank you," he replied. "By walking in such a way, you can only have two motives, neither of which I have a place in."

Caroline furrowed her brow in confusion. "What does he mean?" she asked Lizzy.

"I don't know," Lizzy replied, "but the best way to disappoint him is to not ask at all."

"Regardless, I should like to know what exactly you mean, Will."

"Sure. Either you have secrets to discuss, in which case, I would be in your way. Otherwise, you know that your figures appear to be at the best advantage when walking. If that is the case, then I have a better view here."

Caroline raised a hand to her mouth, as if shocked. "How shocking," she exclaimed, "how shall we punish him for such a comment, Liz."

Lizzy restrained herself from rolling her eyes. Caroline had been fishing for such a comment, and hardly needed to punish anyone for it.

"The surest way to annoy him is to tease him, to laugh at him," replied Lizzy. "Surely, your close friendship with him must mean you have an idea of how to pester him." _Not that she needs anymore help in that aspect,_ she thought_._

"Tease him? Why, it is quite impossible to laugh at someone like Will! He is infallible," Caroline protested.

"I should hope not," Darcy contradicted. "An infallible human would be such a frightening thought."

"Then shall we discuss your faults, Darcy?" Lizzy asked, arching an eyebrow.

He refused to meet her eye. "We shall not. Besides, I believe we have already discussed this subject, you and me."

"Perhaps we have, but we have not yet enlightened, _dear_ Caroline."

"It is of no consequence to me what his faults are," Caroline declared airily, "for I am sure that they are few, and of little consequence."

Darcy did not respond.

The clock struck twelve sooner or later, and the party discovered that Jane and Charles had fallen asleep together on the couch.

Lizzy smiled.

Richard told her, "Just let them be. Jane can stay. You can stay too."

Caroline frowned, "But didn't you say there were no guest rooms, left?"

"I'm sure I can make room—"

"That is quite all right," Lizzy interrupted. "But thank you. I'll go home now, and pick up Jane in the morning.

She stood up and staggered slightly. Richard frowned. "Lizzy, how much have you had to drink?"

She looked slightly guilty. "Not too much, but I have a rather low tolerance for alcohol."

Richard sighed, and thought for a moment. Then his eyes lit up with an idea. "If you insist on going home, how about having Will drive you home?"

Darcy looked up suddenly.

"Well, uh," Lizzy responded.

"It's fine, I'll take you," Darcy announced, standing up.

"It's really not—"

"Of course it is!" Richard exclaimed. "I'm not going to responsible if you drive yourself into a ditch."

"Of course I wouldn't!" she exclaimed indignantly.

"Of course you wouldn't," Richard replied, smiling.

"Fine."

Caroline looked like she had something to say, but instead kept her mouth shut. It was better to have Darcy send Lizzy home rather than have her stay there…

Darcy and Lizzy stepped out of door silently. The cold night air of the New Year woke Lizzy's senses slightly, but she stepped into Darcy's high-class car anyway. They were silent on the way to Lizzy's house. When he finally dropped her off, all she said was "Happy New Year," while he did the same.

Each then returned to their respective homes, preparing to spend the first night of the New Year alone in their own beds.

**A/N: I would like to acknowledge that there are probably mistakes/inconsistencies in here, but I want to post this now because I just spent forever working on it, and I'm dead tired, and I have a headache, but I know this chapter has long been overdue. Please forgive the mistakes I may have made, sorry if the end is rushed/doesn't make sense. Please read and review anyway; I could use some encouragement. Thanks for reading!**


	13. Capsized

**A/N: I guess I got my muse back. I have some fresh ideas to work with now, to push the plot forward for once. I realize that this is definitely different from the original P/P, and a lot of people are telling me things along the lines of, "Get on with it, let L/D get together!" but I feel like a little more struggle and background is necessary to better establish the nature of their relationship. Hopefully, this chapter will set us up for propelling forward into the plot. **

Chapter 13: Capsized

Lizzy Bennet woke up in the morning feeling very refreshed, and ready for the new year, though she felt a strange sort of foreboding, something prickling at the back of her consciousness, yet refused to make itself known. She shrugged off the feeling, pointing it to nerves, and a little headache from the previous night's drinking. Besides, it wasn't even that bad; after some breakfast, it would be all but a dull memory. She had woken up slightly earlier than she intended, so that she would have time to pick up Jane. She knew she didn't have to, but still, it was something she wanted to do. Of course, the car was still at the Darcy residence, so she pondered her predicament over cereal and milk.

By the time she had finished her breakfast, she had decided upon walking to the Darcy residence. After all, it wasn't _too_ far, and she _could_ use some fresh air. She closed the front door as softly as possible. Everyone else was still sleeping. And for a second, she wondered why she was so insistent on walking to see Jane. After all, it was the middle of winter, hardly fit for frolicking about outside. She shrugged.

Half an hour later, she was almost beginning to regret her decision, shivering on the doorstep of the Darcy residence when Richard opened the door.

"Lizzy!" he exclaimed upon perceiving her shivering form.

"Richard," she began.

Without another word, he stepped aside and ushered her in.

"Did you _walk_ here?" he asked.

She nodded, her teeth chattering together.

"Here," he slipped off his jacket and wrapped it around her. Stepping behind her and grasping her shoulders, he guided her into the kitchen, passing the living room on the way. Seated in the living room were Caroline and Darcy.

Caroline's eyebrow rose at the sight of Lizzy, shivering, the hems of her pants covered in mud from the previous night's rain. "She looks positively _filthy_," Caroline commented.

Darcy made no response. His arms were crossed tightly, and he was staring very intently at the corner of the coffee table.

"Darcy? Don't you think so?"

Forced to make a response, Darcy simply nodded, unwilling to engage in conversation with her.

With nothing else to say, Caroline fell slightly, her expression slightly sour.

In the kitchen, Richard handed Lizzy a cup of hot coffee. She sat with her shoulders slightly hunched, his jacket hanging around her body, too big for her smaller frame. In her hands, she held the coffee cup directly under her face so that she could savor the delightful smell of strong, fresh-brewed coffee, and feel the steam rising to her face.

"Thanks," she finally was able to say, as her teeth stopped chattering.

He smiled. "No problem. You know, you didn't have to pick up Jane. We would have sent her back safely… though some people might have been reluctant."

Lizzy smiled. "It's okay. I wanted to take a walk anyway. I figured, might as well walk over here."

Richard smirked. "Are you sure there wasn't someone you wanted to see?"

Lizzy rolled her eyes, "Of course not! Honestly, enough about the insinuations with me and D--."

He pouted, "I'm so hurt, Lizzy. Wouldn't you want to see me?"

Lizzy laughed. She lowered her voice. "But seriously, enough about trying to set me up with Darcy, okay? It's not going to happen."

Richard, too, grew more serious. "Why not? Lizzy, I honestly think that you are jumping to conclusions here. I'm just asking you to _listen_ to his side. I know you already think that he's the bad guy, but trust me, you've been looking at the wrong facts, and drawing the wrong conclusions. Your entire perception of him is entirely wrong."

Lizzy sniffed. "I understand that you are trying to defend him and act in his interests, but I honestly think I can take care of my own affairs."

Richard sighed. "At least consider it, okay? I won't force you to anything. But you're making the wrong choice."

"If I make the wrong choice, it is doing so knowingly, and I will have only myself to blame, since you have so kindly warned me. Thanks, anyway, Richard. I appreciate the concern, really."

He shrugged. "I tried."

Lizzy sat still, still holding the coffee. Even if she was misjudging Darcy, even if everything was different, there were still things about him that could not be explained away, things that were one hundred percent true, injuries and hurts that couldn't be erased. Perhaps in another life, she might have loved all of his flaws, and perhaps they may have lived happily ever after, but she only had this one life, she reflected sadly.

"Lizzy?" a tentative voice called from the doorway.

Lizzy turned to see Georgiana. "Hello!" she smiled, happy to see her again.

"Uhm, I was wondering if you could stay a bit longer. I mean," she blushed, "it's been a while since I've seen you. And I've always felt like you were really nice to me. I'd definitely count you as one of my best friends."

Lizzy's eyes widened in surprise. "I—I am very flattered, Georgiana. Can I call you Georgie?"

"No!" she shouted. Then, realizing the volume of her outburst, she flushed crimson and said softly, "No. Sorry. It—I—just—if you want to give me a nickname, it can be Giana."

"Sure, Giana," Lizzy smiled warmly. Clearly something had happened between the years Lizzy had not seen this girl to make her so shy and introverted. Lizzy suspected it had something to do with the aversion to the nickname "Georgie," but she did not inquire further. "Should we take a walk outside?" Lizzy suggested, sensing that the younger girl wanted to talk, but wanted privacy.

"Yeah," Georgiana smiled. Lizzy stood, and Georgiana led her to the back door that opened out to back of the Darcy property. Darcy glanced up as the pair passed by.

"Where are you going?" he inquired.

"Lizzy and I are taking a walk," Georgiana announced quietly.

"Make sure to wear a jacket," Darcy reminded.

"Yes, Will," she agreed.

"You better keep my jacket, Lizzy," Richard said.

She turned to smile at him. "Thanks."

"No problem," he grinned back.

Caroline gazed at the pair as they walked out of the door, her expression slightly disdainful. Darcy, on the other hand, looked after them with a sort of longing. Caroline scowled as she realized who he was _really_ looking at.

"You are terrible at hiding your emotions. They show so blatantly on your face," she complained.

He turned to look at her. For a second, he studied her face. It was well-structured, proportionate, and it could be considered beautiful. But at the moment, it held no interest to him. Though Caroline might have gotten her face fixed so that it looked perfect, she hadn't been able to fix her nature. He was slightly perplexed when he wondered why she thought she could get everything she wanted with money.

Then the thought occurred to him with a sinking feeling in his stomach. Caroline, whom he so scorned, might as well be him. Lizzy despised him for nearly the same reasons he disliked Caroline. The sudden revelation left him feeling slightly shocked as he realized just exactly _why_ she had rejected him so many times.

"Will?" she asked.

"Don't call me that," he snapped.

"Fine," she snapped back, "_Darcy_, have you been listening to _anything_ I've been saying?"

"No, and I don't care," he scowled. His name just didn't sound the same coming from her mouth. He stood rapidly, and walked swiftly out of the door. There was no way he could keep going on like this. She was still constantly in his thoughts, and he could hardly bear it.

He stalked out into the cold, but it hardly bothered him. Perhaps it even cooled his impetuousness slightly, but most likely, it had not. His was the type of passions that only the most heated flame could excite, and it would not be thwarted so easily.

He walked around blindly, wondering where they could have gone. If he had stopped to think, he would have figured their destination out for sure, but he is in such a state that thoughts no longer came to him coherently. Instead, they rose to his mind, unbidden, in small fragments, flying so rapidly, like shrapnel. Indeed, he vaguely wondered if his skull might not explode from the thoughts flying around in his head.

After fifteen minutes of stomping about in the bushes, he heard voices. He stalked into the recess behind two hedges that was Georgiana's favorite hideout.

"Will!" exclaimed Georgiana.

Lizzy merely gazed at him steadily.

He stalked over to Lizzy, grasped her wrist and pulled her away.

"What are you doing?" she demanded as soon as he had ceased pulling her away. He stood in front of her. She looked utterly confused.

"I just," he began, "I just had to say this. I know you're never going to forgive me, or properly listen to me, but I just want to tell you I'm really sorry."

"For what?" she sneered.

"Today is January 1st," he said without expression.

Though she had not explicitly connected the concept of New Year's with the date January 1st, Lizzy had felt a sense of foreboding at the time of New Year's. As she slid towards the ground, she realized what it was. January 1st. The day of her deepest despair. The day that doomed her to start every year with a cloud of darkness over her happiness.

"And I want you to know that I am so very, sincerely sorry, no matter what you choose to believe. I'm not going to try making any excuses anymore. But I'm just going to apologize, no matter what I truly did, and what you think I did." His eyes were filled with sadness that didn't even begin to mirror the despair in Lizzy's eyes. He knelt down before her and awkwardly brought his arms around her.

For a moment, her shock prevented her from responding. Suddenly, she stood, and pushed him away.

"Get away!" she shouted. "The last person I need sympathy or pity from is you, Fitzwilliam Darcy."

He nodded, as if expecting the response. "I understand." He turned away, and slowly walked towards the house. Richard appeared from behind a bush, about a hundred feet away from the scene.

"Smooth," was his only comment.

Darcy could only stare glumly at his feet.

Lizzy, still among the hedges, sat on the ground, staring blankly at the ground. January 1st… she kept turning the numbers and days around in her head. There was no mistake about it. January 1st was the day.

A tear dripped from her eye, and threatened to freeze right there, so cold the winter air was. Tear after tear dripped down her cheek, until she felt the devastation and depression she had not felt for so long. The pain was still raw, and even the promise of healing with time had not been fulfilled. She had not even her favorite city to solace her.

She had tried so hard to forget the pain, but her efforts were all in vain. She had spent futile years trying to forget. But some memories would haunt a soul forever, and were not easily shrugged off. Such memories could corrupt a person's entire soul, turning it towards hatred, and anger, and obstinacy, and the refusal to see what's really there.

Such memories had corrupted Lizzy, and even Darcy, and seeds of their torture were the seeds of weeds; they needed no nurture, nor excessive water to bloom, and take root with thorny stems.

Georgiana watched Lizzy for a moment from behind her vantage point in the hedges, unsure how she should comfort her friend. Tentatively, she moved towards Lizzy, taking only a few steps at a time until she reached Lizzy's side. She sat down slowly, and put an arm around the older girl. The silence in itself was comfort enough. Lizzy held on to Georgiana as if she were a rock, the only unmoving thing in a stormy ocean.

But even clinging to a rock will not prevent a sailor lost at sea from being beaten by the waves, chilled to the bones, and drenched in salt water.

**A/N: Please review! Let me know how I'm doing, what you think, suggestions/criticisms, etc. I'm happy to read them all **** Have a nice day, and happy fanficcing!**


	14. Disillusioned Souls

**A/N: A darker chapter right here. I feel like the situation is a little ridiculous, but please bear with me. At least we are moving forward. Please read and review. **

Chapter 14: Disillusioned Souls

_Excerpts from the journal of Miss Elizabeth Bennet Volume IV:_

_September 21, 1999_

I believe I've made a friend! It seems odd to me, to be honest. I've never been one for friends, but I find that as you move into college, you get stuck with people who share your interests, rather than people who live close to you. There's a much more… diverse arrangement of people here.

Her name is Elise Schreiber, and she's completely amazing. We have a lot in common, but I think that we are also very different, although compatible at the same time. Anyway, what's even better news is that we're roommates! How lucky I am to be assigned to live with such an incredible girl!

Her writing is absolutely mind-blowing. It is so fantastical. She has such a great imagination to think of so many strange and surreal stories. I feel like I have such a long way to go when I read what she has written. She writes mostly short stories, but the content and the execution are so amazing, I always end up in a daze after reaching the end. The funny thing is, even though I am in such awe of _her _writing, she dismisses it as junk, and instead reveres _my_ writing, which is strange, because if you read our works, and compare them, hers come out on top every single time.

It's so incredible to have someone who understands me, and my dreams, someone to share my hobbies and be able to be on par with my intellect. I no longer feel quite so alienated over here than I did in America. But it could just be that British people are friendlier than Americans. Or maybe something else. Whatever it is, I'm feeling happy for the first time in a very, very long time.

I think that having left high school, life's going to better, a lot better…

_November 14, 2000_

Something's up with Elise. I can just tell from the way she's acting. She seems really distracted of late. I suspect that she has a love interest, but she won't tell me _anything _about it. I suppose I have speculations, but no one is really plausible.

I think there's something about him that she can't tell me about, because she's acting shady, and she's also been sneaking out at night, and coming back really early in the morning. I wish she would just tell me something…

_November 18, 2000_

I finally cornered Elise about what she's been doing sneaking out of the dorms at night. She told me that she has a boyfriend. I was only mildly surprised at this. The reason she was keeping it a secret was that her boyfriend attended Cambridge. How oddly eerie it is… so reminiscent of Romeo and Juliet… except Oxford and Cambridge are schools, not families.

Still, I feel like there is something exciting about Elise having an affair (ok, so maybe this word isn't _entirely_ appropriate, but sort of, right?) with someone living two hours away is quite exciting. Apparently he's rich too, or else he wouldn't be able to use all those resources to go to and from the two schools.

She wouldn't tell me his name, but I think it's enough to know that he exists. I'm glad that she's happy. I just hope she knows what she's doing. Anyway, she told me that she's going to spend Christmas with him, so they'll be able to get some time together then. I'm really happy for her, and I hope I get to meet him sometime, but she says that she's not ready for that, and that's okay. I'll just respect my wishes until she's ready.

But still, something about this is really fishy to me. I think there is quite a bit that she's not telling me, besides the whole boyfriend thing. I just wish she could tell me what's on her mind. I hope she's not having problems with anything. We're friends, though. If she did have problems, she would tell me, right? Maybe… Or maybe I'm the only one who thinks that we're really close friends.

Wow, it's getting really late now. I should probably finish writing my paper, and try to get some sleep. I'll write more later if I find out anything more.

_November 30, 2000_

Elise came back to the dorms with a bruise on her cheek. There is something really weird going on, and I want to know what's going on. There is something incredibly wrong going on. I wish she would just tell me. Are we not friends who can rely on each other for help?

I just don't understand why she won't tell me anything. She's suddenly very, very different. She has a vacant look in her eyes when I look at her, and she is unresponsive when I speak to her. She's all but stopped doing her coursework.

I don't get it. She seems like she's a completely different person. What happened to the Elise I thought I knew? And what hurts the worst is that maybe she never truly saw me as her friend. And maybe it was my naivety in believing that she return the feelings of friendship I held for her.

I just don't know anymore…

_December 20, 2000_

Elise is reticent, moody, reserved. She has barely said a word to me, this entire week. Christmas is in five days. She has told me nothing of what she's planning to do. I have no idea whether to expect her to leave or not. I, for one, am definitely not going home. I have had enough of Connecticut, and my family and my past. It is enough for me to be in a different country, and do what I truly love to do. I could not have been more blessed, unless I had a true best friend with whom to share my feelings, and thoughts.

I believe I will spend Christmas alone, perhaps the first time I have done so. It will be blissful silence for me, assuming that Elise will be spending Christmas with her mysterious boyfriend. I believe he is the source of the trouble. I bet he is the one who hit her. But perhaps that is the easy explanation of it, because I would rather not blame my own friend for her sudden change in character.

_December 26, 2000_

All Elise left me on Christmas Eve was a note saying that she would be gone for a while, and not to expect her back until after New Year's. I assumed she was with her boyfriend, although she hadn't said anything explicitly. She looks so tired lately, as if she's got a lot on her mind, but couldn't care to unburden herself.

I just wish I could help her out a bit…

_January 1, 2000_

Elise. Is. Dead. Even writing the words on paper doesn't make it seem any more real to me. Imagine, being called at 3AM to be told that your maybe best friend is dead, killed over a drug deal. Drugs! Elise said nothing about that; I didn't even know she was involved in something like that. It seems like there's a lot I don't about her.

And her death also had to do with her boyfriend too; he was there when she was stabbed multiple times. And as if I couldn't take any more surprise, guess who she was dating?

None other than Fitzwilliam Darcy. I don't even know how this would happen. I don't see as attracted to him. And how could Darcy simply stand by, and let it happen? I'm convinced that he got her into this mess. As if it weren't enough to ruin the life of one girl, he had to utterly destroy the life of another. It seems like that is his especial talent: ruining lives. College seems to have been worst disappointment of my life.

---

Georgiana held onto her friend very tightly. She knew nothing to say that could bring comfort to the girl shaking with sobs in her arms. It broke her heart to see Lizzy crying as if her heart were broken. Georgiana wished fervently that she were in a position to be equals with Lizzy. Alas, the age difference and her own timidity would always force her into a subordinate role, only to look up to and admire Lizzy, when she could not herself be a friend to her.

She was inept at any form of comfort, so she simply sat quietly. Hopefully, Lizzy would understand her good intentions, even if she were silent.

Lizzy did. She was very grateful for Georgiana's support. The pain and disappointment and torment hadn't diminished itself since college, but at least she could live day by day, choosing not to remember. And on days such as these, she usually did all the crying by herself. And by the time her tears dried, her grief would always turn to anger; anger for the man responsible for all of her pain, and all of her trouble, the man responsible for the death of her one best friend that she had really felt connected to, despite all the secrets she kept.

Lizzy wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "Thanks, Georgiana."

Georgiana smiled at her friend and gave her another hug. "I hope you know that if you ever need to talk about anything, anything at all. I am always willing to listen."

Lizzy looked at the girl, more than ten years her junior, and smiled slightly. She had never expected Georgiana to mature into such a woman so fast, and she regretted that she had not been able to witness the rest of Georgiana's childhood, because it would mean seeing the man she despised.

She stood up. "I think I should go."

Georgiana nodded. "Okay. I hope you'll be okay."

"Yeah," Lizzy agreed. "Thanks for everything, Giana. Can you tell Jane that I'll be in the car?"

Georgiana nodded again. "Sure."

Lizzy slowly began to make her way back to the house. She had no intention to see Darcy again. So she simply wound her way around the house to the front. She opened the car door and slipped inside. A few moments later, Jane ran out the front door, and sat in the passenger seat.

"Lizzy! Are you okay?" Jane's eyes looked concerned.

Lizzy nodded wearily. "I will be. Don't worry about it."

Jane took Lizzy's right hand and squeezed it gently. She let go in a moment so that Lizzy could drive. Lizzy backed out of the driveway, and drove away from the Darcy residence.

Fitzwilliam Darcy and his cousin, Richard Fitzwilliam stood at the second floor window, watching her go.

"Bugger," Darcy muttered under his breath.

"I agree." There was a pause before Richard spoke again. "What are you going to do now?"

Darcy turned to Richard with sorrowful eyes.

Richard nodded, and patted his cousin's back. "I don't blame you, Will. You've already suffered enough disappointment in your life."

"I'm so sorry, Rich," Darcy said, sighing with resign.

"Don't be, Darcy. I always knew it would come to this. I guess it's just time to accept the truth of the matter."

Darcy sat down in the window seat. "It's not fair to anyone. Not to me, not to Anne, and certainly not to you."

"Life's not fair," Richard said. "Things ought to have worked out for you. But you've always had the worst luck."

Darcy made no reply.

---

"I expect you to be _in_ Hartford in 24 hours," the shrill voice on the other line demanded.

Nathan Collins nodded miserably. Then, realizing that nods could not be perceived over the other line, immediately said, "Yes, of course, Lady de Bourgh. I cannot wait to see you."

"Spare me your pitiful sniveling, Collins. Just be there. I have a lot to discuss with you," Lady Catherine de Bourgh hung up the phone, muttering under her breath about the incompetence of assistants.

Beside her, a girl of very dark hair, and very dark clothes, but very pale skin coughed lightly.

"Oh my dear, are you cold? Are you feeling ill? Perhaps we shouldn't have taken that awful private jet. It's the pilot's fault for being so slow."

The girl coughed again. "Mother, I'm feeling a chill in this room. Perhaps we had better hurry to Richard's house."

"Of course, dear. It won't do to have that draft bringing you sickness. And with all these people around, pestilence is only too likely."

As the older woman turned around, Anne de Bourgh snickered in her wheelchair. She couldn't wait to see Richard, and it was all too likely that Richard would be ordered to take Anne on a short walk to "get some fresh air."

Of course, there was very little walking actually involved in these outdoor romps…

---

Richard stared open-mouthed at the two people standing at the door.

"Hurry up, boy. Don't leave the door open. Go on, invite us in. Anne is going to catch her death out here!" Turning away to hide a smile, Richard gestured for the two to enter. "Aunt Catherine, Anne," he murmured respectful. As Anne, no longer in her unnecessary wheelchair, walked in, Richard slapped her posterior, smirking as he did so.

Anne turned her head around to glare at him. But before long, her face to was covered with evidence of her amusement.

Then Richard remembered that he was not alone at home.

"Will!" he shouted, trying to give his cousin due warning, but Lady Catherine had already spotted her prey.

"Fitzwilliam," she crooned. "It is so good to see you again. Perhaps this means that you have something to discuss with me?" She smiled so falsely that he almost winced.

"Richard, _dear_, why don't you take Anne outside while I discuss something with Fitzwilliam. Make sure she is dressed very warmly, and don't stay outside so long."

Richard nodded. "Of course, Aunt."

Anne smiled, and wondered why Richard did not look pleased. She shrugged. He would tell her later. Catherine led her nephew into an office, and Richard took Anne's hand, and they stepped out the back door together. Once they had gotten a suitable distance away, and hidden from the house by hedges, Anne suddenly grabbed Richard's collar and pulled him down for a passionate kiss. Richard responded warmly, but then pulled back.

"Rich, what's wrong? You've been acting incredibly weird since we got here. Tell me, what's up?"

"Will's agreed to marry you."

"What?" Anne asked, incredulously.

"Will has agreed to marry you."

Anne rolled her eyes. "I know what you said, but I thought he was still in love with Lizzy!"

"Yeah, he is. But he's given up."

"Then, what does that mean for us?"

Richard forced a laugh. "Affairs are not necessarily out of the question."

Anne did not laugh. "Richard. Will's great and all, but we're completely different people. Besides, this whole situation doesn't make sense. Obviously, he doesn't care for me, and I don't care for him. We both are obviously in love with different people."

Richard sighed. "There is no way that Catherine is going to let me marry you. I'm not even a legitimate child. I'm just my mother's bastard child. I have no blood ties to the Darcy or de Bourgh families. Thus, I would never be able to inherit the company. I'm an outsider."

"But, how can this happen? Marriage is forever. I can tell you right now that you are going to regret this decision forever. I won't go through with it anyway."

"You have to, okay? You, Darcy, and I have duties to our famil—"

"Pardon me for saying so, but you're not _part _of the family. You have no obligations."

"If I am not part of your family anymore, then I will be thrown out of this house. I will have no more ties."

"Elope with me," Anne demanded.

"I refuse."

"You have to," she growled.

He turned away. She grabbed his wrist and pulled his face towards hers. Their lips met in a kiss, and her tongue explored his mouth. He felt himself almost giving in at the marvelous sensation of kissing the woman he loved, and having her love him back. But it was no use if they loved each other, but she was pledged to someone else. He pulled away once again.

"Let's go back inside, Anne."

"Richard! Stop being so damn pig-headed," Anne shouted. "This isn't some selfish decision you can make all by yourself. You're hurting me, too. You're hurting Will, and you're hurting yourself. All you're doing here is giving into my mother!"

"Anne," Richard replied calmly. "I have watched my mother being destroyed because she loved a man she was not married to, and tried to stay with him despite her marriage. I will not do the same thing to you. Once you are married, I will disappear."

Anne stared at him, open-mouthed. "Rich—"

"Shh," he whispered, placing a finger on her lips. "Let's go back inside and not argue about this anymore."

She began to cry.

"Don't cry, Anne. You will be over me. Will's a good man, a better man than I could be. He won't push you into anything."

"I don't want him to push me into marriage. This is so ridiculous."

"I know, darling, I know. But sometimes we are forced into ridiculous situations, and we must come out of them with our heads held high."

He lifted her into his arms, and carried her back to the house. He brought her into an empty bedroom, and set her down.

As he turned to leave, Anne grabbed his wrist. "Don't leave, Richard. Don't leave before you have to."

Richard shook his head. "This is just going to make it harder, Anne. Don't do this to me."

And he turned away before she could see that his own eyes were glistening with tears that he tried to force himself not to shed. He quickly walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

At that moment, three hearts were breaking with the choice that had undertaken.

**A/N: Please review? :3 **


	15. Nuptial Drama

**A/N: Well this update took longer than usual. I've been so busy, and I still am! I'm trying my best to keep the story up, and not take eons. I apologize that it has been a while. But I hope a month isn't such a stretch in fanfiction land. Please review!**

Chapter 15: Nuptials and Drama

"Fitzwilliam," Catherine de Bourgh smiled, a horrifying sight. "I'm so glad that you have finally decided to make the right decision."

He stared at her and looked down. "Yes."

She stood up, and Darcy followed suit. She embraced him with a kiss on the cheek which he suffered through wordlessly. "I cannot wait until I can call you my son. When should we announce the engagement?"

Darcy stared at her. "Uhm," was his response.

She smiled even wider, revealing her brilliant, perfectly white pointed teeth. "If you have nothing to say on the topic, then how about I'll take care of all the logistics. Hmm?" She looked at him expectantly.

"Uh."

"Great! I'll let you know when we'll hold the engagement party. It will be soon! And the wedding! We must have a March wedding—"

"_This_ March?" Darcy stared in shock at his aunt.

"Of _course_ this March! When else would we hold it? There shouldn't be a delay. After all, you and Anne have known each other for all your lives, and your mother and I have been planning this for all our lives. There is no reason to wait any longer."

"U-uh, you're right," Darcy replied, nodding as if to convince himself that he was doing the right thing. He nodded several more times emphatically.

Catherine laughed. "I'm so glad that you are so excited about this. But nobody could be excited about this as me. Why, if your mother were still alive she would be delighted!"

Darcy frowned and nodded, suddenly pensive after the mention of his mother. Would she really be happy? Would his father be happy that he was finally being "responsible" for his familial duty?

"Why don't you check on Anne? She should be resting now," Catherine smiled, "I'm sure she'll be very glad that you have made the right decision."

Darcy nodded again, still unable to make a different, more intelligent reaction. He left the room, leaving Catherine laughing to herself. He trudged up the stairs and passed by a few doors before he reached Anne's, which was closed. He leaned into the doorframe, sighing heavily before knocking on the door.

There was a silence, so he turned away, thinking Anne was either asleep or ignoring him. But then, he heard, "Come in."

He turned the doorknob and walked in. Anne sat up in her bed. Darcy sat in a chair next to her. She did not make eye contact with him. He looked at her for a moment.

"Are you okay with this?"

She slowly turned her head to meet his eyes. Her eyes were slightly red-rimmed. Darcy felt a lump of guilt rise to his throat.

"Look, Will, you're a great guy, I don't want to be a bitch and all, but no, I am not okay. But what can you do, when it's not truly up to you, and everything's already been decided for you. Will, I don't want to blame you, and I don't want to seem ungrateful, but this isn't the life I envisioned for myself. But there's nothing either of us can do about it if we just give in. We're already forced into these roles by our parents. My question is, 'Do you _really_ want to do this?' I know you don't. I know you still _love _Lizzy. And you know that I love Richard. All you're doing is giving in." Anne crossed her arms stubbornly.

"Anne, I'm sorry. This is completely selfish of me, and I don't think I can apologize properly for this, ever. But I hope you can at least understand that I have to do this. I have to."

"Will, you don't have to! You don't!" She was shouting now. He tried to take her hand, but she shook him away. "I don't understand why you're doing this. You're just breaking everyone's heart."

Darcy stood up and faced the door. "There's no way I'm ever going to make it on my own anymore. I have been rich all my life, and once I'm cut off from my resources, I have nothing. I can't be who I want to be. I'm not cut out for it. I haven't accomplished anything that I've wanted to. I haven't built the career I wanted to pursue, I haven't gotten the woman I love—"

"So you want to ruin _my _life, just because yours is going off the rails?" Anne demanded. "Darcy, just stop, stop. Get out. I don't want to talk to you any longer. If we're getting married, so be it. Just leave me alone until the wedding."

Without saying another word, Darcy left the room.

-----

Lizzy leaned her cheek on her hand, her elbow on the table. "It's so nice to see you again."

The woman sitting across from the table smiled. "You too, Lizzy. It's been so long, too long really."

Lizzy laughed, "Too many people have been telling me that recently. So how have you been, Charlotte?"

"Ah, life's just the same as usually. I'm still in the same boring job as usual, still single, still have no idea what I'm going to do with my life." Charlotte sighed.

"Aw, Charlotte," Lizzy said, "that doesn't matter. These things come with time. You have a great job, and get to work with books, which you love. And when you meet the right guy, you'll meet him."

Charlotte looked at Lizzy. "Look, Lizzy, I'm not like you. I'm not pretty like you. I don't have a great career, and I don't have a great guy chasing after me."

Lizzy stared at Charlotte blankly. "Who?"

"Lizzy! How can you not see this? Darcy!"

Lizzy laughed at loud, "Darcy? He's not great, far from it." Her expression turned sour as she remembered what had happened earlier that day.

Charlotte sighed, "At least there's someone who's remotely interested in you. No one ever wants me."

"No, Charlotte! You're a beautiful, wonderful person. You just need to wait for someone to see you. You will find someone. Everyone does."

Charlotte laughed bitterly, "Lizzy, you're still young. You're not even 30. It's not a problem for you, and besides, you're the kind of person who would be totally fine with being independent, because you're such a strong person. But someone like me, I have to have a family. I can't be alone. I just can't!"

Lizzy held her hands up, "Just stop being so self-deprecating, Charlotte. You have friends who really care about you, and I think that's what matters more."

"Lizzy, I'm not the same as you. I can't do this." Charlotte sighed sadly, shaking her head.

Lizzy took Charlotte's hand. "Don't worry about it so much, Charlotte. Honestly, I wish you could just see yourself the way I see you."

Charlotte sighed again. A silence fell upon the pair. Lizzy leaned her head against the back of the seat in the booth she and Charlotte were sitting in. It was then that she heard her name.

"…Lizzy." When Charlotte made a motion to speak again, Lizzy made a shushing hand gesture with her hand as she pointed with her thumb to the booth behind her. Charlotte quickly got out of her seat and slipped next to Lizzy.

"Nathan, I _sent_ you to get _rid _of that awful Bennet girl, to marry her so that Darcy would forget about her, not to fail," Lizzy and Charlotte heard a cold voice sneering.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, Lady de Bourgh," someone sniveled.

Charlotte and Lizzy simultaneously turned towards each other, jaws wide open. Charlotte mouthed, "Collins?" Lizzy nodded, mouthing, "Son of a bitch." Charlotte nodded vigorously. "But it doesn't matter anyway now," the woman continued.

"Why?" Collins asked.

"He's engaged now."

Collins clapped excitedly. "To Anne? That's so wonderful! May I offer you my most heartfelt—"

"Can it, Collins."

Charlotte looked pointedly at Lizzy, and whispered, "What are you going to do now?"

"Nothing, Char, he's obviously not interested in me, and I'm not interested in him. So what is there to do?"

"But Lizzy, don't you think it's such a waste?"

"No."

Charlotte rolled her eyes. "Maybe you don't think so, because he's _loved _you for so long, you've taken it for granted that someone will always love you."

"What?" Lizzy shook her head.

"Lizzy, you're never going to understand what it's like being me. Nobody has ever liked me. Nobody ever thinks I'm pretty enough, smart enough, or—or nice enough to love."

"Charlotte, you have a loving, decent family, and that's more than I can say."

"Yeah, mom and dad and siblings don't count. What I really want is a husband and child of my own. I just want a white picket fence with a nice house with pretty white shutters and a rose garden in the front."

"But Charlotte, there's so much more than you can get in your life. Why settle for less?"

"Lizzy, I don't have high expectations for my life. I'm not going anywhere like you are. I'm content to settle."

"Char…"

Lady Catherine de Bourgh took that moment to stand up. As she turned around to take her purse, she caught a glance of the two women in the next booth huddling down, as if trying to remain invisible.

"Why, Lizzy Bennet! Speak of the devil. How _have_ you been doing?" Without waiting for a response, she continued rather smugly. "Perhaps you already know that Darcy is engaged to my daughter, Anne."

"Yes," Lizzy forced herself to smile, "I have heard that.

"Of course, you and," she glanced momentarily at Charlotte with a disapproving glance, "your _friend _are also invited to the wedding. We hope to see you there!"

"Thank you very much for your generosity, Lady de Bourgh. We are very flattered to receive your invitation."

Lady de Bourgh sighed happily, "I'm just so glad that he has _finally _taken the responsibility and fulfilled the duty required for our class of people. The Darcy's are a very well-known name, you know."

Charlotte rolled her eyes. As she was doing so, she noticed Nathan Collin's eyes on her. As her gaze moved to make contact with his, his pupils rapidly shifted away, he was looking at his feet, his cheek slightly more flushed than they had been before. Charlotte smiled slightly, despite the fact that Nathan Collins was not a particularly attractive man. He was of average height, medium to pudgy width, and only in his mid-thirties, he had a receding hairline. His round glasses were slipping down a nose that only seemed to further his bookish appearance.

But in Charlotte Lucas's eyes, this did not matter even a bit. He was interested in her, and that was all there was to it. It was a novel feeling to her, being noticed. She was always being overlooked. She was not even a middle child, and still she was overlooked. Her younger siblings outshined her in intelligence and in physical appearance, and her parents gave her less love than they did her brothers and sisters. So for once, it was good to be noticed, it was good to stand out and have someone see her and like what they saw.

She met his eye again, this time for a few seconds longer, but this time, it was she who lost nerve and looked away, embarrassed.

"Well, we should be going. There are lots of things we should be doing right now, and planning. It was _very_ nice seeing you, Lizzy. I hope to see you at the wedding!" Lady Catherine de Bourgh smiled rather unpleasantly.

Lizzy forced a smile, "Thank you again for the invitation, and congratulations. Please send Will and Anne my congratulations as well."

Lady de Bourgh merely nodded before turning on her heels to walk out of the door. Collins followed her somewhat reluctantly, taking one last glance at Charlotte before turning to follow his boss. Lizzy was wrapped up in her own thoughts, so she did not notice when Collins slipped a card from her pocket onto the table behind him. Nor did she notice when Charlotte picked it up as they were leaving.

-----

In another state, another boss was less than pleased at his employee.

"George, I'm not going to deny that you are our best actor. But I've already given you several warnings, and you have done nothing to assure me that you are taking care of your problems. I will not accept you coming on set high again. I have already told you several times. And even though we will miss your skills as an actor, I'm going to let you go. And here," he fumbled in his pockets for a card, "you should have help. Here's a number you can call."

George Wickham took the card, glancing at it scornfully. He stood, and smiled pleasantly.

The man sitting across from him, Mr. Robinson, was relieved. He had thought this would be more difficult, that Wickham would cause more trouble.

His momentary relief was ill-founded, as Wickham took that moment to rip the card in half. After he had ripped it in half, he opened his palm so that all the pieces floated to the floor. He then kicked over the table, scattering papers and breaking the glass paperweight Mr. Robinson's daughter had given him for Christmas. He stormed out of the room without another word.

The next day, George Wickham was in a theater troupe, touring in Connecticut.

**A/N: Well, okay I have one more thing to say. Please check out the poll. I can either finish the story pretty quickly and skip some things I was planning, so the ending would come faster, or I could fill it out completely, but it would take much longer. Please let me know! Thanks. Also please review **


	16. Rain and Disappointment

**A/N: Well I didn't plan it so, but recently, there **_**has **_**been quite a bit of rain around here. Interesting… intriguing… anyway, doesn't really move the plot forward so much, but I hope you like it anyway. It's set-up for later (: Please review, my lovelies! Also, sorry I update so infrequently; it's hard for me too. I forget what I wrote about in the previous chapter XD**

Chapter 16: Rain and Disappointment

The doorbell rang, and Lydia screamed, "I'll get it!" perhaps hoping that it was one of her admirers come to see her. She was very surprised when the door opened to reveal Nathan Collins, standing awkwardly at the door.

"Oh," was her response. Jane followed her sister down, calling, "Who is it?" perhaps hoping that it was _her _admirer, Charles Bingley. Looking over her shoulder up the stairs, she called to her sister, "Lizzy, er, I think you'd better come down."

Lizzy stomped down the stairs in a sour mood, made only worse by the appearance of her undesirable admirer.

"Elizabeth," he acknowledged, giving a slight bow.

"What do you want now?" she asked. "My answer still hasn't changed."

"Miss Bennet, forgive me, but I have not come here as a renewal of my marriage proposal." Mrs. Bennet, who had just come down the stairs at that moment to see what all the fuss was about.

"Marriage proposal?" she asked blankly. Lydia shushed her, interested to see what would happen.

"I have since given up hope of your accepting, so I have merely come here to notify you that I will return what is rightfully yours, and apologize."

Lizzy looked very confused. "Who told you to do it? Catherine?"

Collins looked rather chagrined at the familiar mention of his patroness. "_Lady_ Catherine de Bourgh did no such thing. I have done it to show my own good will, and hope that you will forgive my—"

"Wait, is this about being my editor? Because if you think that you're ever going to be called my editor again, you are sorely mistaken."

Collins looked so obviously crestfallen that even his next words could not disguise that this had been his intention, "Of course not. I just wish to return what is rightfully yours."

"Well… okay…" Lizzy stood awkwardly.

Lydia stared at him with wide eyes.

Even Jane looked perplexed. Mrs. Bennet simply looked confused, as she looked from one face to another, wondering what was going on.

Sensing he was not wanted any longer, Collins simply bowed again and took his leave.

"Lizzy, you were proposed to?" was the question Mrs. Bennet deemed most important to ask once the door was closed.

"Yeah," Lizzy answered.

"Gosh, he's _so_… ugly!" Lydia observed, still staring at the door.

"Well, why didn't you say yes?" Mrs. Bennet demanded.

"Mama, do you have _eyes_? Or are you so obsessed with marrying off your daughters that you are no longer concerned about their opinion on the matter?" Lizzy asked.

"Lizzy, here you have received a perfectly respectable marriage proposal—"

"One, he was my former boss. Second, he and I are totally unsuitable. I wouldn't want my children having part of his DNA."

Jane almost laughed, but suppressed her mirth because of the solemnity of her mother's attitude.

"Lizzy! I demand you accept him!"

"No!"

"You are being stubborn!"

"No I'm not! I hate him, and you can't make me marry him." Lizzy stepped away from her mother and opened the door angrily. She slammed the door upon exiting the house. Mrs. Bennet merely stood still in the wake of her daughter's exit, wondering where she had gone wrong.

Lizzy stomped over the green grass of her mother's carefully tended lawn. Upon seeing a newspaper in the driveway, she stepped off the lawn to pick up the newspaper. She tucked it under her arm without looking at it. Then she walked towards her bike. She quickly pedaled out of the driveway, unsure where she was going. She just wanted to get out and be somewhere on her own. She could take the car, she thought, if she had wanted to get farther away, and faster, but then she was a New Yorker, more accustomed to public transport and taxis than of driving.

As she pedaled along the streets she had grown so familiar with in the romps of her childhood, she found herself on a path that she had not traveled on since childhood. It was a little known trail that led through a wooded area of the park she had loved since she was a little girl. As she pedaled on, breathing in the air, she began to relax a little, something she had not felt for a while. She stopped just as she reached a small clearing, with the picnic table on one end. As she sat down on one side of the table, someone sat up on the other side. Startled, she screamed, dropping the newspaper. Then, upon seeing who the person was, she was surprised.

"Richard! What are you doing here?" Lizzy asked.

He laughed. "I had hoped to get a little peace and quiet with a little nap in the woods, but no such luck."

Lizzy laughed too. "I also hoped I could get away from the rest of the world for a bit."

"Because of the whole…" Richard trailed off, unsure if he should go on.

"That too, but also, Collins just showed up at my door."

Richard's eyebrows shot straight up. "What? Did he want you to marry him again? Aunt Catherine's idea, probably."

"Thankfully, not. He said he wanted to return my money."

"Oh, figures. Have you _read_ the newspaper?"

Lizzy shook her head, but picked up the newspaper she had dropped on the ground. She shook off some dirt from it, and opened it. On the headlines, in giant, bold letters screamed the words, "Elizabeth Bennet Cheated by Scamming Editor!"

She skimmed through the article, which contained little to no facts, but seemed to catch the essence of the situation quite well.

"Wow, I can't believe this made it to the newspaper."

"Yeah. I wonder who told the press." He glanced at her to gauge her reaction, but she was still engrossed in the article.

She put it down, seeming not to have heard the question. "Well, I guess he has nothing to do with me anymore. So why are you here?"

He sighed.

"Darcy and Anne?" she asked.

"You heard about it already?" he asked, slightly surprised.

"I may have been sitting next to Lady Catherine de Bourgh in a café while she was discussing this with Collins…" Lizzy said.

Richard chuckled. "So like you to be in the middle of every coincidence."

Lizzy did not ask what he meant by this, because he went on.

"Well, neither of them really get any say in this, and I get even less."

"But he was the one who proposed, right? None of this could be happening unless he hadn't done anything."

"Yeah, but Lizzy, our family is hard to understand. There are certain expectations that you have to comply with. Lady Catherine de Bourgh can make your life a living _hell_ if you cross her. And Darcy had to deal with all the crap when he grew up, not just with his aunt, but with his father."

"I don't think that can be sufficient excuse for his actions. I know that you're trying to excuse what he's done, but you don't have to. Honestly, I can't believe he would do that to you and her."

Silently, Richard added, _and himself._

"I mean, didn't he say he was going to make it on his own and get started with his a career of his own?"

"Yeah, but it's kind of hard to start a business when every potential investor is threatened and blackmailed by one of the most powerful women out there."

"It can't be that bad," Lizzy reasoned.

"Yeah, it was. Will was literally bumming his friends for food and a roof to sleep under when he came back to Hartford. The last time he called me, he told me that he was going to look for friends in New York to stay with, because he no longer had any way to support himself. Imagine how much it took for him to ask his friends for somewhere to live."

Lizzy swallowed, a growing feeling of discomfort growing in her chest. "Did he ever ask you who he went to stay with?"

"Nope, but I assume with Charles, right? And Charles gave him a temporary job, right? Well, I don't know. Even though I agree, it was a pretty horrible thing he did, I don't think I can find it within myself to blame him. I mean, if the situation was reversed, and I was the legitimate child, and you—well, I'm sure I'd have made the same decision."

"Me, what?" Lizzy asked.

"Nothing, it doesn't matter."

Lizzy didn't press for more answers, but she remained curious as to what he actually meant.

"Look, he's been through a lot of stuff, and he's struggled for so long. If he wants to settle now, I'm not going to be angry at him for not trying harder. I'd have given up by now. It took a lot to break down a guy like him…"

Lizzy remained silent and stared at the table. "Life sucks, huh?" she laughed half-heartedly.

Just then, her phone rang. "Sorry," she apologized to Richard. He smiled obligingly, and made a motion that she should take it.

"Hello?" she asked, not recognizing the number.

"Hey! Lizzy!" Lizzy's jaw dropped with surprise. "It's me, Wickham!" he announced enthusiastically from the other line.

"I haven't seen you for a while, since that incident. How are you?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I heard about everything that happened in the newspaper. Are you okay?"

Lizzy laughed. "I'm okay. He actually ended coming over to my house today to tell me that he was returning everything."

There was silence, then laughter. "I'm glad, I really am, Lizzy. Listen, I'm in town for a little while with my theater troupe, so I hope that we can see each other. Would that be okay?"

"Of course!"

"How about you meet me at the theater? I'll tell the box office to let you in for free. Then we can hang out afterwards. It's at seven tonight."

"Sure," Lizzy smiled.

"All right, it's a date!" Wickham announced happily. "Oh yeah, also, if you didn't mention this to anyone, that'd be great. I heard Darcy's in town, and I don't need any more confrontation."

"I totally understand. I'll see you then!"

"All right, see you!"

She hung up.

"Who was that?" Richard asked.

Remembering her promise, Lizzy replied, "Just an old friend's in town. We might meet for a drink or something later."

"Might?" Richard smiled.

"Fine, _will_. There's a subtle difference, you know."

Lizzy laughed.

"You still hate Darcy, don't you?" Richard suddenly asked, growing seriously.

Lizzy fidgeted uncomfortably.

"Look Richard, he's engaged. He's moving on. There's no need for you to defend him anymore. I think I'd better go soon."

"Yeah, me too. I should be heading back." They stood up. Lizzy turned to find her bike. As she got on, Richard gave her one last piece of advice, "Lizzy, just be careful around Wickham. I know you're not going to listen to what Darcy says, but take it from me, at least, he's bad news."

"Thanks Richard, I'll keep that in mind," Lizzy said tersely, before turning away, back the way she came from, wondering why Richard was not more angry towards Darcy.

"Hey, Georgiana?"

"Yeah?" Georgiana looked up from her book.

"Do you want to watch a play with me today?" Richard asked.

"What play?"

"The Taming of the Shrew."

"Sure. Are you going to invite my brother?" Behind her apparent question was another question, lurking underneath that no one wanted to answer. By asking if he was going to invite her brother, she was also asking, by extension, "Are you going to invite my brother and his fiancée, aka the love of your life whom you are not going to marry, because he's too chicken to actually do what he should?"

Richard forced a smile, understanding the silent question, and answering in the affirmative.

"Great. I'll go ask th—him." Georgiana also forced a smile, not wanting to press him any further. It was a sensitive subject, to be sure, but one that had to be addressed sometime. It wasn't as if his birth could be reversed, or changed. And now that had come to ruin his life all over again.

Richard nodded, "Thanks."

Georgiana heard the rest of that silent sentence. "You're welcome."

At precisely 6:07 PM of that day, everyone of consequence in our story was unhappy.

Caroline Bingley, well, need this be any more obvious?

Richard, Darcy, and Anne were unhappy because they would never marry the person they loved the most.

Jane was unhappy that Lizzy couldn't go to the show she, the Bingley's, and the Darcy's were going to see that night.

Lizzy was unhappy because she was still mulling over what Richard had said to her, and her previous conceptions of the characters she had been introduced to. Even reevaluating, she could find the reason to change her opinions of any one of them.

At 6:47 PM, she was ready to panic, because Jane had taken her car, and her father's car was not automatic. She could barely even drive automatic cars, let alone a stick-shift car. Deciding to settle, and feeling utterly ridiculous, she jumped on her bike.

The house lights were dimming by the time she rushed into the theater. She glanced around for an empty seat, somewhere. Suddenly, she heard her name being called.

"Lizzy! Over here!"

Lizzy turned to see her sister Jane, waving from somewhere in the middle of a row. She ran over, quite astonished to see her sister in the theater.

"What are you doing here, Janie? I thought you said you were going out!"

"I am! I thought you said you were busy, going out with Wickham!"

Lizzy laughed. "I guess we all ended up in the same place anyway."

Jane smiled. "I'm glad you're here. Uhm," she glanced to the seat to her left, noting that it was taken. The next available empty space was on the other side of their party, which was seated in a long row. The empty space happened to be next to Caroline Bingley. Lizzy made a face and reluctantly took the seat.

"Well, look who decided to turn up," Caroline remarked snidely, as Lizzy took a seat, "and in such a distasteful manner," noting Lizzy's frizzy hair due to the bike ride she had taken through a light drizzle.

Lizzy was about to make a snappish retort, but instead shut her mouth. There didn't have to be any more conflict. So she made no remark, nor did Darcy, who was seated on the other side of Lizzy. He was sitting rigidly, back straight, head up, eyes forward. He had in no way acknowledged her presence, nor did he intend to. That door had shut already.

Through some cruel trick of fate, or perhaps clever maneuvering on the part of their friends, Richard and Anne were sitting next to each other, each as uncomfortable as the other. Both were obviously working hard to conceal the fact that they were itching to hold each other's hand. When the lights dimmed, their common sense threatened to fail them entirely.

It was in the first half of Act III that his fingers brushed hers in the dark, and held hers. She was surprised, but did not resist the contact, her heart aching slightly, knowing that this might be all they would have.

"I don't think I can go through with this," she whispered to her left, keeping her eyes fixed on Petruchio.

"I'm not _that_ great. You'll get over me," Richard whispered back comfortingly.

She laughed bitterly at this. There had just been a joke made, so the laughter of the crowd masked. "Richard, you know that all we're setting ourselves up for is a lifetime of temptation and suffering."

"Maybe for me, you'll have someone to distract you," Richard said with just a hint of anger. The slight inflection in his voice was apparent to Anne. She turned her head slightly, then back towards the front, trying disguise her attention to him.

Darcy felt an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach. He could bear causing pain to himself, but there was nothing worse than causing pain to Richard and Anne except causing pain to his dearest sister or Lizzy.

That's why he had done what he had done, he reasoned. And it wasn't such an unreasonable thing to tell the media what Collins had done, right? It wasn't even interfering _that _much. And Lizzy would never know, so it wasn't as if he was doing it for his _own _benefit, right? He wasn't being selfish, right? No, he most certainly wasn't. He was doing the right thing, even if it was the most difficult thing to do. His eyes couldn't help but slip over to Lizzy, but he quickly focused his eyes at the front. But this made the situation no better, for Wickham was on the stage, playing Petruchio. He had always hated Petruchio's character. He was too vain, materialistic, and treated Kate more ill than she deserved. Though, perhaps the case could be made that he truly _did _love Kate, the way he treated Kate was still inexcusable. Not even once, during the play did Darcy think to evaluate his own treatment of "his" Kate.

Lizzy on the other hand, felt half-indignant at the blatant misogyny of the play, yet half-forgiving because, then again, the times were different and it _was_ so funny… In her eyes, Wickham made a superb actor. He brought energy to the entire stage. Without him, there would not be half as much the animation she observed on the stage.

By the end, the comical adventures of the characters had brought the entire audience to an applause. Even Darcy clapped his hands together in more than a polite applause. Lizzy, intending to meet Wickham, waved to her sister, and disappeared through the crowd. Darcy watched her go, wanting to go after her, stop her from going to Wickham. He wouldn't deny that there was no one he hated more than Wickham at that very second. Wickham had taken _everything _away from him, except his name, which he no longer truly wanted, anyway.

Lizzy was incredibly bored. Wickham had brought her to a bar nearby. He had gotten started drinking right away. And apparently, he had friends there too, and he felt comfortable talking with them the whole time, and ignoring _her_.

Lizzy was not angry, no. She was convinced that she felt no strong feeling for Wickham, or else she should be jealous of every single blonde bimbo who got up to talk to him, and flirt with him. She felt, strangely apathetic, and couldn't help but thinking Richard was right, though she would not admit it out loud.

Her opinion of him decreased further when Wickham realized he had forgotten his wallet, and Lizzy was left with the bill. She paid it quietly, and walked out the door. Wickham had not offered to give her a ride, though in his drunk state, it could hardly be expected. At least he could have called a cab for her…

As Lizzy walked outside, the breath of fresh air felt nice, as a contrast to the dense air of the bar. But she realized that it was still raining, and all she had was a bike. She swore under her breath. Tonight was not turning out as she had hoped it would. She brushed the rain off the seat of the bike and reluctantly mounted it, pedaling through the rain. She decided to take a shortcut through the park, though it was dark. She knew it well enough that it would not be a problem.

However, she had not anticipated the alterations that had been made to the park since she had been there as a child. On the path through the park, 3 wooden posts had been set up in the middle of the path. Lizzy, unable to see in the dark, and not expecting any obstructions, bumped into one of them. Her bike twisted away from her body, and she fell off, painfully catching her leg underneath the bike. She took a moment to gather herself. She wasn't hurt. It was a sort of momentary pain that was not significant injury.

"Are you okay?" She jumped at the voice behind her. She instantly identified it as Darcy's. As she looked up, she realized that she no longer felt the rain on her head because he was holding an umbrella over her.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she grimaced. "Why are you here?" she asked, standing up, and wiping her hands on her wet jeans.

"I was just taking a walk."

"In the rain?" Lizzy asked incredulously.

"I shouldn't be too judgmental. It seems there are double standards here."

"I beg your pardon, but I'm only doing this for transportation. You, on the other hand, likely have your own private chauffeurs."

"That's true." He pulled out his phone, and dialed a number.

Lizzy thought it extremely rude that he interrupt their conversation to make a phone call, but said nothing. He was Will Darcy, after all.

"Hello, Joseph?" There was a pause. "At the park." Another pause. "All right, I'll see you then."

Lizzy raised an eyebrow. "You getting picked up?" She meant it in a demeaning way, but he coolly replied. "No, it is you who is getting picked up."

"Oh, no. I know you're trying to be kind and chivalrous, but there really is no need."

"I insist," he insisted.

"No, no." Lizzy could hardly gather her thoughts. Her hands flailed as she tried to remember what she was trying to say. "Just, no." Why was he being so nice to her? He was already engaged. Obviously, he should have no connection whatsoever with her anymore, besides being her publisher's lawyer. In that case, there should be no relationship but a professional one. There was no legitimate reason to see each other outside of a professional setting, so was he taunting her? Showing her what could have been if only she had accepted his previous offer? She was not intimidated, nor did she have any regrets about the decisions she had made, or the opinions she had formed.

While her mind was thus engaged, he had taken off his jacket, and placed it over her shoulders, noting that she was shivering.

Feeling quite irrationally angry, not specifically at him, but at the entire world, for conspiring to make that night the worst night ever, she snapped at him. "Stop being so damn chivalrous! You don't have to talk to me anymore. You're engaged. I offer you my heartiest congratulations." She felt tears of frustration prick her eyes, and she didn't even know why. Why did she care? Why was she crying?

He looked surprised, even in the dim light of the streetlamps. She was thankful that the lights were dim enough that he couldn't see the tears welling in her eyes, and that even if he could, teardrops were not distinguishable from rain. "Yes, but Charles will hold me accountable if you are sick and I could have prevented it. Time is money in the publishing world, and there is no time to waste on illness," he answered without batting an eye. Inwardly, he thought, _I am so good at lying. When did it come so naturally to me? _

Lizzy felt instantly ashamed. "I'm sorry. That was really childish of me."

"That's quite all right. You've had a rough night."

She looked sharply at him, wondering how much he knew. Then, deciding he probably just inferred her unhappiness from her appearance, she let it go. They stood in silence for a second in the rain. In a moment, a car pulled up, and Darcy ushered Lizzy into the back seat. He himself took the bike and placed it in the trunk. As he slipped into the backseat, his driver, Joseph, handed him a stack of towels and a set of spare clothes.

"I apologize, Master Darcy, if I had known you had a friend with you, I would have brought an extra set."

"It's quite all right, Joseph. It was my fault for remaining silent on that subject." He gave a nod to his driver, who turned back to the road and began driving away from the park.

Darcy took one towel for himself, then handed the rest to Lizzy, along with the spare set of clothes.

"Here," he offered them to her, "you take them."

She shook her head, but as she was shaking her head, she gave a sneeze. He nodded. He turned away, facing the window to the right, to be polite, and Joseph shut the barrier between front seat and the backseats. Lizzy had no choice but to change. She glanced self-consciously back at Darcy, who was facing completely away. Unless he literally had eyes in the back of his head, he could not see her. She quickly peeled off her wet shirt, which was clinging to her uncomfortably. The water had soaked through even her bra. It was just her luck that the shirt Darcy offered to her was white. She had two choices: wear the wet, hot pink bra, and leave little to the imagination, or take off the bra, and perhaps retain some semblance of opacity in the shirt. She chose the latter. She glanced back at Darcy again before changing out of her pants. He was still facing away.

What she had not accounted for was the reflective surface of the windows. Darcy didn't need a direct view to see what was going on in the car (and boy, did Joseph know it too, as he snickered in the front seat, unheard by the pair in the back). His eyes widened, and he nearly choked when she took off her bra, though her back was turned towards him (he saw nothing. Readers, do not suppose him to be _that_ ungentlemanly).

"Okay," Lizzy announced when she had finished, and he turned around, acting like he had seen nothing. She had positioned the shirt so that it was very loose, especially around the chest, though it was hardly an appropriate cover. Realizing that he was staring, she self-consciously draped a wet towel around her shoulders to cover her chest. Darcy swallowed nervously.

"When you get home, make sure to drink some hot tea. If you get sick, Charles will have my head," he managed to get out without too many squeaks.

"Thanks," Lizzy said genuinely. She didn't know what it was about that night. Perhaps it was just because she was so disappointed about Wickham, and had lost all self-confidence, but she suddenly felt like Darcy wasn't so disagreeable after all. And when he brought her to her front door, she impulsively gave him a kiss on the cheek (to which Joseph, watching from the limo window smirked even more).

Lizzy went home, drank some tea, and went to sleep in Darcy's shirt and pants.

Darcy went home, dazed, sat in his arm chair, and wondered if he had made the right decision.

**A/N: Comments, questions, suggestions? Review? :3? ALSO please don't forget to vote in my poll!**


	17. Engagements Of Several Varieties

**A/N: Wow. I am on top of this updating **** Sort of. Right? Anyway, my 50,000****th**** word is in this chapter. I'll point it out coz I'm so vain and proud of myself. Also, don't forget to vote in the poll. It gives me a better idea of what you guys want. **

Chapter 17: Engagements (of Several Varieties)

"Lizzy, are you sure you want to go?" Jane knit her eyebrows together.

"Absolutely, "Lizzy replied. The two sisters fell silent for a moment.

"Lizzy?" Jane ventured tentatively.

"Mmm?" Lizzy responded, not looking up from her journal.

"What happened that night?"

"What night?" Lizzy replied rather vaguely, distracted as she perused the thoughts of her past self.

"The night of the play."

"Yeah? What about it? Wickham basically ditched me to his friends, ignoring me the whole time, so I paid the bill and left. Darcy drove me home, and I went to sleep." Lizzy still had not looked up from the book she was reading.

"Lizzy¸" Jane laughed incredulously, "you came home without a bra, in his clothes. And you're still insisting that nothing happened?"

"Janey, nothing happened!"

"You've obviously been upset the past few days. Did he say something?"

"No. I've just been upset because Wickham's turned out to be an utter disappointment." Lizzy threw aside her journal and sighed.

"Oh, Lizzy, I'm sure you've got it all wrong. Maybe he just saw some friends he hadn't seen in a while. I'm sure he didn't _mean _to ignore you."

"Might I remind you that _I _am a friend who he hasn't seen for a long time?"

"Lizzy, at least give him a second chance, or a chance to explain himself," Jane suggested.

"All right," Lizzy acceded. "I'll ask him if he wants to be my date to the engagement party."

"Really?" Jane asked. "Are you sure that's the best idea?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Well, there is that thing between Wickham and Will…" Jane pointed out.

"That's true. But in any case, Wickham is not the kind of person to run away from an enemy, especially because _he _has been wronged, and Darcy is in the wrong."

"I would not be so sure about that," Jane cautioned.

Lizzy laughed. "We've gone over this many times, Jane. They cannot both be in the right. And Wickham has so obviously been wrong."

"Well, I hope it all works out."

"It will," replied Lizzy, smiling confidently.

Jane stood, and left the room. Lizzy picked up her journal again, and began reading where she left off.

_Excerpts from the Journal of Miss Elizabeth Bennet:_

_May 14__th__, 1999_

The most tragic thing has occurred. I feel almost numb right now. The whole situation feels so surreal, and everyone is in such a state of shock, that I barely know what I am writing. I suppose I shall read over this in a few years and wonder at exactly what I was thinking at this point in time. But I digress.

A couple months ago, Mrs. Darcy was diagnosed with a brain tumor, and the doctors said she wouldn't last long. Poor Mr. Darcy was so distraught; they did everything they could. He flew her to Europe to see if Europe's newest technologies could treat her tumor. She went through surgery, everything. And yesterday, she finally collapsed in the hospital. She's only being kept alive on machines. She's essentially brain dead now.

The worst of all, is that Mr. Darcy rushed to the hospital, and in his rush, he neglected to be careful on the road, and he was hit by a driver on an isolated road (presumably drunk, if the tire tracks on the road are to be trusted).

It was a hit and run, and Mr. Darcy was alone in the car, so there was no way of finding out the license plate or description of the car. In short, Mr. Darcy was alone when he was hit. He managed to get his cell phone out to make a call. However, here comes the surprising part. He did not call an ambulance.

Instead, he dialed his son, William Darcy. Darcy then dialed the ambulance, as soon as he got off the phone with his father. However, it was too late. Mr. Darcy was dead on arrival by the time he got to the hospital. I wonder why Darcy didn't call the ambulance sooner. After all, he did spend at least seven minutes on the phone with his father (I swiped his phone to check the call records. Yes, it was wrong, so sue me. But I had to know, okay?).

So in just one day, Darcy lost both of his parents. He's been rather moodier than usual. I don't really know what to say to him. I mean, sure he's not my cup of tea, but honestly, I can't help but give him some sympathy. It must be so hard on him. I can't imagine losing my parents, even Mama. I mean, sure she's nagging sometimes, but I love her anyway. And I can't even imagine what it would be like if Papa were gone.

Darcy's doing surprisingly well, considering. He wasn't at school today, so this afternoon I went over to his house. And poor Georgiana. She's only 7! It's much, much too soon for her to lose her parents. I don't think she even quite understands what happened. She keeps asking me where her parents are, and I haven't the heart to tell her. I haven't seen Wickham at all. He's been stuck in his room. He refuses to come out. It must be incredibly hard on him, especially considering how close he was to Mr. Darcy.

But anyways, Darcy was pretty depressed. He wouldn't even really talk to me. I tried talking to him, and, well, _comforting _him, but he's just so ANGSTY, you know? At least he didn't kick me out. He let me stay, but he wouldn't say anything to me. So, I gave him a hug, you know? It was really weird. I mean, we _have _been going out for two years or so, but well, the circumstances are hardly normal. I certainly have never been the one to initiate physical contact… I think. Except this one time, but that's another story. I think I really need to get some sleep. This has been so hard on all of us in the neighborhood; Mr. and Mrs. Darcy were very well-liked here.

I don't even know what to say anymore. He just looks so sad, and it almost breaks my heart to see anyone look that sad.

_May 28__th__, 1999_

Unbelievable! I always thought Darcy was an unpleasant sort of fellow, but this incident completely eclipses all other things he has done. And poor, poor Wickham!

So, yes, two weeks ago, I was feeling pity for Darcy. He was just orphaned, after all. But this is completely inexcusable. Wickham finally came to school last week, and everyone crowded around him. I could tell he wanted to be alone, so I grabbed him, making some excuse about the homework he missed. Of course, that got most everyone out the way, and I took him to the back of the school. We just sat there for a while.

Here's how our conversation went:

"Wickham, I'm so, so sorry for your loss. I know you were really close to Mr. Darcy," I said, taking his hand.

He nodded, and replied, "If only I were so close to his son."

"What happened?" I asked.

"Well, you know, the Darcy family has quite a fortune. But, I'm not actually part of the family, so I never expected anything out of my relationship with Mr. Darcy. However, he said he would leave me a way to make a living, especially since my own father left me next to nothing. He left me a trust fund with enough to pay for a good college and graduate school, and a property. I was more than grateful for this, but he insisted that I have it. So, of course, I accepted. However, the problem was that it was never set in stone because Mr. Darcy never expected to…" His voice broke, and he stopped.

I squeezed his hand encouragingly, and he smiled **[HECKYES. My 50000****th**** word is "smiled"] **slightly at me.

"Uhm, well, he never got around to updating his will. And now, Will is refusing me any part of his fortune, as if what little Mr. Darcy left me was such a large loss to his bank account."

"That's terrible!" I exclaimed, shocked and horrified.

"Well, I'll get on," Wickham said with a slight smile.

How he must have suffered, to have to endure the death of someone who was like a father to him, and also the loss of his entire future.

"How can you go to college, then?" I asked.

"Well, there's always financial aid, community college, and a part-time job waiting tables."

"But you're so talented, it would be such a waste!"

"Thanks, Lizzy. That's really nice of you, but I'm not that talented," he protested.

"Don't be modest," I told him.

"Don't worry about me. I'll make it through." He looked at me with such determination in his bright eyes that I was a little taken aback. I won't deny that I hadn't looked at him before; he is HOT, okay? But he looked especially attractive in that light, with that expression on his face. And plus, we were already sitting at the back of the school, next to the dumpster.

So I guess it was at least somewhat reasonable that I leaned closer. He did the same, and kissed me. It was… amazing. He was really gentle, and it felt so right. I mean, I never really felt anything for Darcy; he was just so awful. But Wickham, he was a real gentleman. In any case, I liked him a lot better than Darcy.

But he broke away immediately, all too soon.

"I'm so sorry!" he exclaimed. "I mean, you're going out with Darcy and all. I'm so sorry." He stood up immediately.

"No," I pulled him back down. "I never liked Darcy at all. I mean, well."

Then something happened that made me jump.

There was a voice behind me. "Is that so?" I turned around to see Darcy leaning on the side of the dumpster. He took a step forward. Wickham and I both stood up. Wickham stepped in front of me, between Darcy and me. He was still holding my hand.

"Lizzy, go away," Wickham whispered.

"No, I'm not leaving you," I answered.

"Well, at least step a little away, okay?"

I nodded, and took a few steps back.

"What the hell do you think you're playing at? Haven't you done enough damage? Do you have to take her away from me, too?" Darcy demanded.

I wondered what exactly he meant by that, but it seemed I was not going to be told.

"It doesn't even look like she wants to be with you," Wickham sneered.

"You son of a—" He stepped forward and looked like he was going to punch Wickham. I had no doubt that in the event of a physical confrontation, Darcy was no match for Wickham, but I did not wish any physical confrontation to occur.

"Wait!" I interrupted. "Darcy, look, don't do this. This obviously has never worked out between us, and I think it's time we—you stop fooling yourself. It's over, okay?"

He glared at me, but did not retort. His face contorted into an angry grimace, and he stalked away.

I slid down to the ground, shaking slightly. It felt so odd to be single. I have spent nearly the past two years struggling with Darcy in this weird relationship. And finally, I'm free. It's so liberating, yet so debilitating, as if I can't even stand alone anymore. I guess I got so used to constant companionship that I never truly understood what it was to be alone.

But anyway, Wickham hugged me, and we stayed like that for a while. After a while, we both went back to class. Darcy was not there.

Now that she thought back on it, Wickham was not such a bad guy. After all, he was much, _much _more gentlemanly than Darcy. He had pleasing manners. Who could blame him for slipping up one time, especially since they hadn't seen each other in so long; her expectations were probably unrealistic. He deserved a second chance.

"Lizzy!" he picked up the phone, "I'm so sorry I kinda ditched you the other day."

Lizzy smiled. "No, it's totally fine."

"No, really, I'm so sorry about that. It's just, those guys that I was talking to were representatives of an agency, and they were talking about signing me on to some things. I might actually become a legitimate actor."

"Really? I'm so happy for you!" Lizzy's smile grew even wider. Of course there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for his behavior. And now, he could be on his way to fixing the damage Darcy had done to his life. "Anyways, I was wondering if you were free Valentine's day?"

There was a silence, and Lizzy blushed. "That sounds so presumptuous. I'm sorry, but it's just Darcy's engagement party is on Valentine's," she blushed even more, and continued on shyly, "I was wondering if you wanted to be my date."

"Valentine's…" Wickham said slowly, as if thinking it over.

"If it's too weird, I totally—"

"No, no. It's not that. It's just that I have a meeting with an agent sometime around that date, and I don't know exactly when it was. Let me check."

Lizzy heard a beeping noise, which she assumed was him looking through his schedule. She then heard a long sigh.

"The meeting's scheduled exactly on that day." There was a pause. "This sucks. I really wish I could go with you."

"No, it's fine. Some other time."

"Of course."

"Well, bye then."

"Bye."

Caroline Bingley was leaning against a table in her too tight, too short dress that showed too much cleavage. Her eyes were fixed on Fitzwilliam Darcy and Anne de Bourgh. When she wasn't looking at them, she was looking at Elizabeth Bennet and Richard Fitzwilliam, although occasionally her eye slipped to Jane Bennet and Charles Bingley. She was resentful of the first pair. She was merely interested by the second pair, and the effect the pair had upon Will… And the third pair, she merely looked at while trying to find a way to separate them.

Darcy was similarly engaged. He of course, had noticed Richard and Lizzy standing together, at first with only surprise and polite interest, but then with increasing jealousy. He could tell Anne felt the same. And on Jane and Charles, he spent more time (or so he thought; his gaze kept coming back to Lizzy and his cousin). Charles, he had no doubt, was very much in love with Jane. However, he was more unsure of the lady's sentiments in this case. She laughed at his jokes, and smiled a great deal, but he saw not passion or love on her face. He must find some way to warn Charles away before he got his heart trampled on again but a false-faced woman.

But his attention was brought back to Lizzy as Anne shifted by his side. He saw the couple walking towards the door that led out onto the balcony. He was about to follow, but someone walked up to him to give him her well-wishes for his future happiness. He accepted them politely, but rather hurriedly, as he gave some excuse to leave. He took a back door out of the building, and stood, pressed against the wall, behind the shrubbery growing beneath the balcony.

"…yeah. I guess I just had to move on," he heard Richard saying with a sigh.

"How long—"

"A couple years…"

"Ah, I see. Well, I'm glad you're with me now."

His heart thumped loudly in his chest, and he would have yelled out if it were not for the hand immediate over his mouth.

"Shut up," Anne whispered in his ear before releasing him.

He glanced at her, before returning his attention to what was going on above him.

"Me too. It's just, it's just, you know, been really hard. It's nice to have someone who understands."

There was a silence, and Darcy's paranoid mind had already leaped to so many conclusions as to the reason for this silence. _What are they doing up there?_

"Richard, you're a great guy. It won't be so painful after you weather this through. You'll be stronger for the whole experience."

"I doubt that, but thanks for your vote of confidence."

Darcy's gaze slid over to Anne, and he saw a tear slide down her cheek.

"What have I done?" she whispered.

Darcy slid an arm around her shoulders. They stood like that awkwardly, even after Lizzy and Richard had gone back inside.

"Richard might be strong enough, but I don't think either of us is strong enough to go through with this," she told him with sudden honesty.

Darcy looked towards the night-time sky, so riddled with pinpricks of starlight, like the sky was an imperfect blanket hiding light away from the mere mortals that wandered the Earth.

"What other choice do we have?" he answered her, without meeting her eyes.

"I can talk to Mother."

Darcy laughed bitterly. "You think that's going to work? She's got the entire company wrapped around her finger. She has connections everywhere. Why do you think I haven't been able to succeed at anything I did since I left the company?"

"I think there's at least one trusted person that can give us new names. I don't doubt Richard would follow us to Paris."

Darcy was silent, obviously thinking of the person he longed to be with.

"And Lizzy," Anne swallowed, "well, I still think that you can convince her. All of her misconceptions can obviously be cleared up in a moment's explanation."

"I know."

"Why don't you tell her then?" Anne turned on him, her eyes furious.

"I can't," he shook his head, his voice breaking, "I can't."

"Yes you can. All you're doing is killing yourself in this one selfish decision."

"Don't judge me, Anne, don't you dare. You have no idea what it's like to be me."

"You're right," Anne shouted back, "I do have no idea what it's like to be a stupid bastard who thinks of nothing but himself, and doesn't have the courage to stand up for what's right. You're just some stupid wimp who can't stand up for the woman he loves, or even for his own life. Yeah, you're right. I'd never be someone like you. If I were you, I'd have probably killed myself a long time ago, instead of bringing down everyone with me."

She turned and ran off. Darcy turned to lean his head against the wall. _What have I done?_ All her words had hurt him deeply, though he didn't care to admit it. She was right, she was so, so right. Well, one part wasn't true. He didn't have to bring down _everybody _with him. There was still one friend's heart he could save.

"Mom, I can't do this," Anne stated directly.

"What, honey?" Lady Catherine de Bourgh turned to her daughter with a quizzical eyebrow.

"I can't marry Darcy."

"Why ever not?"

"Mom, all I've wanted in my life is to marry someone I truly love and cherish. And I had found that person before Darcy came along."

Lady de Bourgh snorted. "You can't be talking about the Fitzwilliams' bastard son?"

Anne was surprised. _How on earth did she know? _She chose to ignore the comment on the circumstances of Richard's birth. "And, of course with my constitution, I hardly think it fitting to marry someone who is so closely related to me."

Then, Lady Catherine de Bourgh laughed, and it was the most chilling laugh Anne had ever heard. "You think you can make me believe your lies? You think that your influence with your doctor can be compared to my influence and power of coercion? He has been telling me everything I need to know since the day you've been born. I've allowed you this little game, but now, now is the time to stop playing it. You're not ill, you and I both know this."

If the first revelation of her mother's knowledge shocked her, this one left her speechless.

"Mom, I know this seems like a hopeless cause, but I hope you even have one shred of heart and humanity in you. Surely, there must have been someone you loved. Would you wish the same fate to me?" Anne asked.

"Of course there has been nobody," the Lady lied, laughing again at the seeming preposterousness of her daughter's appeal. "I esteemed your father when I married him, and it was by no means an unhappy marriage. You shall learn to adapt the same way I have. That is your duty. You have a family name to uphold."

Anne turned away with silent tears, and as she turned her back, her mother's eyes softened, even if her will would not budge. She understood the heartbreak she was bringing to her daughter, but suddenly, her lips pursed, as she remembered the impropriety of marrying for love. Feelings did not matter one whit in this world. At least, that is what she would keep telling herself as she witnessed her daughter becoming more and more depressed, until she was little more than a shell of the girl she used to be.

**A/N: Anyway, hope you liked the chapter, please review :3? It makes me update faster nyahaha. Also, tell me what you think (: I'm always open to criticisms (constructive) because I am aware that I live in my own world, so what I write might make sense to me, but not to you. ALSO I'm going to NYC! I'm uber excited. I might actually understand what I'm writing about now… everything has been made up so far haha. Anyone have suggestions on awesome places to go in NYC?**


	18. Uncertainty

**A/N: NYC was **_**amazing**_**, but kind of different from what I had imagined for Lizzy in this story, but that's okay. We can still live in my fantasy New York. Unfortunately, now that we've moved to CT, I, once again, have no idea what my setting looks like. Anyone out there from CT? For now, Google will suffice. Hope you enjoy the chappie, please review!**

Chapter 18: Uncertainty

Georgiana was pacing. Since she had last seen George Wickham, she had been left with an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach. She still felt nauseated in his presence. Even though he didn't know she was there, every time he turned to look towards the audience, she could feel his gaze, borrowing into hers, burning her. She suddenly shivered.

And Lizzy! She still seemed to have a good opinion of Wickham. This could only be due to ignorance of his true character. Georgiana was sure that if Lizzy knew what kind of person Wickham truly was, she would never even think of involving herself with someone like him. Yes, yes, that was how it was supposed to work. It wouldn't take long to explain the situation to her, anyway. A few moment's conference were all that was needed to solve the problem.

Yes, Georgiana resolved herself, she would call Lizzy and tell her exactly what kind of a villain Wickham was.

"Oh, but _Charles_," Caroline's voice was deceptively kind, and held a tinge of patronizing, "you can't believe that Jane truly _cares_ for you."

Darcy nodded. For once, his motives were aligned with Caroline's. "Her mother has made it abundantly clear that is a _favorable _match for Jane, while it is certainly not favorable to you."

"I don't understand," said Mr. Bingley stupidly, his mind still struggling to accept what his friends were telling him.

"_Charles_, she is _using_ you to get to our family's fortune." As always, Caroline had little subtlety about her, though it was certainly unattractive in a woman like her.

"You're telling me, this has all been a _lie_?" Apparently, Charles was _still _struggling with the concept, mostly because he was so easily swayed by his own emotions. But now that his friends were giving him kind and wise counsel, he thought about it. He would not be able to observe disinterest with his biased perception. But certainly, the advice of his friends was to be trusted; they could see what he could not. They could help him, and therefore, he should heed their well-meant advice.

"Yes, she has been using me, hasn't she?"

Caroline nodded emphatically, and Darcy slowly nodded, glad that his friend wouldn't get hurt anymore. And with this cut-off from Jane Bennet, and his return to the Darcy family, he would have nothing to do with the Bennet family any longer. Perhaps now was the perfect time to move on. Besides, he was going back to his childhood home soon.

_Pemberly_, he thought, so beautiful and grand, yet elegant and graceful despite its grandeur, unlike Caroline's residence, which was gaudy and unattractive, though very, very expensive. He couldn't wait to go back. He would be married on Pemberly's grounds, just like his mother and father before him, and his grandparents before them. He would carry on tradition, and uphold the proper family honor, and fulfill the duties given to him upon birth.

Finally, finally, finally, he felt like he was getting something right.

Wickham had not _exactly_ lied to Lizzy about meeting someone who could give him a real living, a real way to survive after his inheritance had been cruelly snatched away.

He had found none other but Melissa King, a rather unattractive girl, mousy brown hair against pale, pale skin and a rude outburst of freckles on her face. But none of that mattered to him. It was the inside that truly determined a person's worth. That's what George Wickham truly believed. At least, the inside of someone's _wallet _definitely determined their worth.

And it was the inside of Melissa King's wallet that shot her worth beyond Lizzy's. Sure, Lizzy would be a great acquisition; she was _hot_, and her own bank account was not bad, but Melissa King was an heiress of nearly 10 million dollars. So she was _much_ more attractive than Lizzy at that point.

In fact, he was spending Valentine's with Melissa King. But, it just so happened that on Lizzy's way home from the engagement party, she had walked by the restaurant Melissa and Wickham happened to be having dinner in. One glance was enough; Lizzy recognized Miss King's face from the newspapers reporting the recent death of her grandfather, and she had already formed a decided opinion on the subject. Wickham was no longer an object of pursuit to her; it was far too long to have kept up the obsession anyway. Perhaps, in the end, it was only a longing for her younger days that brought her back to him. But certainly, it was apparent Darcy did not have the same effect on her, but she account for that with the bad memories she had with him.

In any case, she was never going to call Wickham again. In fact, to demonstrate her own determination to herself, she deleted Wickham's phone number from her address book. While she was doing so, she received a call.

"Giana!" she exclaimed after glancing at her caller ID. "How are you?"

"I'm good. Listen, I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Yes?" Lizzy asked curiously.

"It's Wickham."

Lizzy laughed, "I can probably guess whatever you want to say. But I've already discovered it on my own; he's a douche, simple as that. Don't worry, Giana, I've already lost all interest in him."

"Thank goodness."

Lizzy laughed. "I must have been a real idiot for a while, huh?"

Georgiana felt a stab at Lizzy's words. It hadn't been too long ago that she herself had fallen for Wickham's lies. "No, Lizzy, I'm sure he's lied to a great many people."

For a moment, Lizzy reconsidered those words. If Wickham was not to be trusted, what about everything he had told her 10 years ago. Surely then, he wouldn't have been interested in her wallet… After all, she was just a teenager, and her family was not rich. But Darcy's family was certainly rich. Perhaps Darcy might not have been so wrong in denying Wickham an inheritance.

She was gradually coming to the realization that she had blinded by prejudice in her judgment of the two. After all, there was likely only to be enough goodness in the two of them for one good man, and she now believed it all belonged to Darcy.

But then again, how could Darcy have simply let Elise die for him, and get her mixed up in a drug deal. Lizzy did not believe it of Elise to have been so foolish as to get involved with Darcy if he was involved with drugs. Perhaps there had been coercion… But Lizzy had no idea. Darcy appeared to be a gentleman to her now, except for his inexplicable actions with Elise. And for that, she could never forgive him.

"Lizzy?" Georgiana prompted.

"Oh sorry," Lizzy laughed. "I kind of spaced out for a minute."

"It's all right. Anyway, it's kindaquiet in the house right now."

"Why?"

"Well, Darcy and Anne have already left for the UK; Aunt Catherine _insisted _that they be married at Pemberly, so they have to get all the wedding plans in place. And Charles and Caroline have left to go back to New York."

"What? Did they give you a reason?"

"Er, no. Just that Charles had some urgent business to attend to. He spent a long time talking to Darcy and Caroline before he left, though."

"Giana, I'm really sorry, but I'm going to have to call you back."

"Oh, that's fine. I'll talk to you later!"

"Bye!"

"Bye!"

Lizzy rushed to find Jane. She was sitting on her bed, crying. Her eyes were red, and her hair, usually so neat, was toppling out of its bun.

"Charles left, didn't he?" Lizzy asked.

Jane nodded wordlessly, her mouth contorted into an expression so heartbreaking that Lizzy nearly cried herself at seeing the pain Jane was in.

"Did he leave any explanation?"

Jane handed Lizzy the phone. Lizzy expected to hear a long message on voicemail from Charles, but when she dialed for voicemail, Jane shook her head. Lizzy stared incredulously at her sister, "He _texted _you?"

Without waiting for the response, she checked Jane's messages. The last message was from Caroline, not Charles. Lizzy opened it.

"_omg jj, charles has urgnet busines in nyc we have 2 go, & i dun tink were comign back. send g r love, char is so fnod of her. well byebye!"_

Lizzy was only slightly surprised to find that Caroline Bingley was even _more_ illiterate than she had originally suspected. But the message was an outrage.

"What the hell?" Lizzy exclaimed. "He doesn't even have the balls to talk to you, nor even the decency to send an email or a text, but lets his idiot of a sister do it."

Jane looked up through her tears, "Lizzy I won't have you saying bad things about them."

"Jane, you have to see, Caroline Bingley is not as nice as you think she is. I would have thought better of Charl—" Lizzy stopped. _Caroline and Darcy had been speaking to Charles before he left. _Her mind suddenly came to the realization that _they_ had been responsible.

"Jane, listen to me, Charles was so obviously in love with you. Anybody could see that. Caroline must have felt _threatened _by that and persuaded him to leave."

"If he really loved me, he would not be persuaded to leave," Jane wailed, "I bet it's because he likes Georgiana, not me."

"Janie, trust me, he doesn't have any sort of feelings about her. Caroline made it up because _she _wants to get with Darcy, and it'll make for an easier union if Charles is with Georgiana."

"But if even his sister objects to me, then it means that I shouldn't want to be with Charles."

"Nonsense! His sister doesn't care so much whom he's with, as long as it benefits _her_."

"Lizzy, it's okay. You don't have to keep convincing me that her motives are less than pure. It's fine."

There was a pause.

"Do you think I should go to New York, Lizzy?"

"Absolutely not."

"But—"

"Jane, Charles should be running back to you. Under no circumstances should you try to chase him."

"But I could at least see him, right? Talk to him. It won't hurt, right?"  
Lizzy sighed. She knew she couldn't stop Jane. "Just be careful, Jane."

"I will, Lizzy."

Lizzy hugged Jane and left the room. _Darcy was involved! And just as I was beginning to fool myself into thinking he was a decent person… you can never tell. _She missed Elise so much. Of course, Charlotte was a really good friend of hers, but she had just _really_ connected with Elise. After all, they had shared an interest in writing. And she was so clever and vivacious where Charlotte was… not.

But that was not to say Charlotte was not Lizzy's good friend. She was dependable and kind and so wonderful. _But… _Lizzy reasoned to herself, _it's good to have friends your own age too… _

Lizzy absent-mindedly flipped through a box sitting on the floor. It was mostly old stacks of papers, long-forgotten short stories and longer manuscripts. She glanced through most of them, remembering the bare essentials of their plotlines. However, her eye fell upon one that was not hers. It was Elise's. It was the draft for a children's book, but it was written in the form of a short story. Lizzy picked it up to read it.

It told the tale of two fish, best friends, Lisa and Eliza. (Lizzy laughed at the similarity of the names for a moment). They were best friends, always confiding in each other. However, Lisa had a secret she could never tell Eliza; she had secretly become friends with a shark named Geordie. It was forbidden by fish law to do such a thing, as sharks were not to be trusted. And it was quite right; the shark was not to be trusted. All _he _wanted to do was lure her to a cave to eat her. However, a kindly dolphin named Willy fortunately arrived to do battle with Geordie. Geordie _hated_ Willy, as Willy had protected the seas from Geordie's reach. All Geordie wanted was revenge on Willy, but he was unable to overcome Willy in the fight.

Lisa returned to Eliza, explained what had happened, and apologized for her actions. Eliza was surprised, and admonished Lisa. However, their friendship was restored, and they lived happily ever after, having learned their lesson of placing their trust in people (fish) more carefully.

Lizzy smiled at the story. It was sweet, and just like something Elise would have come up with. But she found, that there was more in the manuscript. There was one more paper in the binder clip. Lizzy began to read it.

_Alternative Ending for Elizabeth Bennet's eyes only 12/24/2000:_

Lizzy was surprised, but read on.

_ Willy defeated Geordie, who retreated back to his sea cave. "You haven't seen the last of me!" Geordie declared. _

_ And it was true. Geordie promised to kidnap Lisa's friend, Eliza unless Willy would agree to provide Geordie a hundred pearls and two hundred sea gems. Geordie was planning to build his own empire under the sea. _

_ Willy had no choice; he had to protect Eliza and Lisa. Yet, still, Geordie was not satisfied. _

_He demanded more and more, continually threatening to harm Elizabeth and Elise. William was gracious and kept providing for George's addiction. Elise felt so guilty that she had involved her best friend, Elizabeth. Yet, she couldn't tell her friend because she was so ashamed of herself, what she had become. _

That was all that was on the page. Lizzy was confused by the sudden change in names. Suddenly, it all clicked. Lizzy checked her journal from college:

_December 26, 2000_

_All Elise left me on Christmas Eve was a note saying that she would be gone for a while, and not to expect her back until after New Year's. I assumed she was with her boyfriend, although she hadn't said anything explicitly. She looks so tired lately, as if she's got a lot on her mind, but couldn't care to unburden herself._

_I just wish I could help her out a bit…_

Lizzy sat, stunned. The story was not simply a children's story about putting trust in the right people, it was an explanation for what had occurred nearly ten years ago. She shivered; Elise had sent her a message from the grave. She reread the story. The identities of Lisa, Eliza, and Willy were clear. However, it took her longer to figure out who Geordie. But it eventually dawned on her. _Wickham! Could it be George Wickham? If that's so, then I have sorely misjudged Darcy. _She suddenly recalled, with rising regret, all her actions towards him.

_Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god_,she thought mindlessly. Everything made sense now; she had just been too blind to see it before. Were it not for his involvement in Jane's separation from Bingley and were it not _too late_, she could have accepted him as at least a friend, and maybe more… [**A/N: orange you glad?]**

Lady Catherine de Bourgh smiled. At last, everything was falling into place. Anne and William were finally to be married! And her own doubts had long been washed away. After all, she used to be young and silly, pretending that _love_ had a place in the world. If she had acted on her youthful fancies, look where she would have been now!

She had been curious, of course, after the engagement party, to see exactly where she would have been if she had acted on her youthful impulses. She was quite satisfied to discover that the person she was interested in (from long ago, she assured herself—all such ridiculous feelings were quashed under years of wisdom and self-discipline) was now as poor as dirt. If she had given in to her tumultuous impulses, where would she be now? She would have none of her current wealth, none of her current prestige. Her noble name would be wasted. She laughed to herself.

"Mother?" Anne's head poked into the room.

"Yes, dear?"

"William and I are going out to look at caterers."

"Do you have to? I thought you could choose from home."

"Well, we'd like to see them in person."

"All right," Lady Catherine gave her consent.

"See you later."

"Goodbye."

Lady Catherine frowned. Anne's face had looked so pinched and sad. If she weren't careful, she would get sick before her wedding day… and that would not do, not at all.

Anne and Darcy looked at caterers half-heartedly. Finally, Anne said, "Let's just pick the most expensive one and get it over with."

Darcy readily agreed. After they had made arrangements, Darcy asked, "What do we do now?"

"I dunno," Anne frowned. "You know, I don't think there's anyone I hate more in this world than you."

"My sympathies, madam."

"Shut up," Anne rolled her eyes. "You don't have any sympathies at all. If you had a single shard of feeling in your body, you wouldn't be doing this. It wouldn't be so bad if you were just hurting me, but you're hurting Richard! And I can't believe you would make up all that crap about Jane only wanting to be with Bingley for his money."

"But—" Darcy protested, but was silenced by Anne's ferocious glare.

"You're only doing this because you don't have the balls to get Lizzy to even look at you, even after more than ten years. You're just a coward, but that's only natural, given your childhood. You're too spoiled, even now, Will. You're nothing but a grown child." She stalked away, waving for the chauffeur, and drove away in his only way to get back home.

Darcy didn't have the heart to chase after her. Instead, he stuck his hands in his pockets and walked around the shops. Even being home didn't make him feel any happier. In fact, it only made him feel more miserable, as it made the prospect of his marriage seem even closer. And Anne was right, if he wanted to be real. Well, mostly. Her accusations about Charles were completely wrong; he had done Charles a _favor_ from further hurt.

And the more he thought about it, the more justifications he found for his actions, and the more he convinced himself that he was doing the right thing…

"Charlotte, my dear," Collins smiled, "I know this seems extraordinarily sudden, but I presume to ask your hand in marriage." He kneeled down and held out a ring for Charlotte.

Charlotte gaped at the ring. "Yes," she gasped. She was going to be married! Someone had finally shown an interest in her! She wasn't going to die an old maid! In fact, she probably needed a few more exclamation marks!

"Wait till I tell Lizzy! Won't she be surprised? Of course, she'll have to be a bridesmaid. The maid of honor!" she muttered to herself.

"Let's not wait long," Collins suggested.

"Yes," Charlotte agreed immediately. "That's an excellent idea. Why, we must begin planning immediately!"

Collins smiled, glad to have a woman, especially one that understood him so well.

"One second," said Charlotte, "I'm going to call Lizzy!"

She quickly dialed Lizzy's number.

"Eh?" Lizzy asked blearily; it seemed Charlotte had woken up Lizzy.

"Lizzy! I'm engaged!" Charlotte exclaimed excitedly.

"What?" Lizzy was wide awake now. "To whom?"

Charlotte blushed and hesitated, then said, "Nathan Collins."

"WHAT?"

There was a silent moment and then a dial tone; Lizzy had hung up.

Lizzy sat on her bed, digesting the news. _It must be a joke, yes, it's a joke. Charlotte always had a quirky sense of humor._

She called Charlotte back.

"Hello?"

"Ha ha, good one, Charlotte. You really got me for a second."

Charlotte was affronted. "I'm not kidding, Lizzy. We're getting married."

"How could you marry someone as," she searched for a word, "a-as _ridiculous _as Collins? And you haven't even known each other that long. It's ludicrous!"

Charlotte frowned. "Lizzy, it seems you aren't ready to digest this news—"

"Damn right, I'm not. Are you out of your mind? How could you even possibly _think _of marrying Collins, and after he scammed me out of all my money—"

"But he returned it!"

"Yeah, so? He wouldn't have ever needed to return it if he hadn't been such a bastard for taking it in the first place."

"Lizzy, you're being extremely rude," Charlotte gritted her teeth.

"Oh, am I?" Lizzy mocked. "This is the single most _stupidest_ thing you've ever done, Charlotte. And I've been friends with you for such a long time."

"Well, if I can consider someone like you a friend," Charlotte retorted, "you go to college, and simply forget about me. I hadn't heard from you in _ages_ and you suddenly come back and want to be my friend again. I welcomed you back, but honestly, who wants a friend like you, who won't even support the people she calls friends? Let me know when you're ready to be mature about this and not judge me."

Lizzy snorted and hung up.

Charlotte closed her phone gently, her heart feeling like it was breaking.

"What did she say?" Collin asked, sensing her discomfort (an extraordinary feat, considering how pig-headedly insensitive he was most of the time).

"She hates me," Charlotte sobbed.

He put an arm around her. "Forget it, Charlotte dear, she's like that. I don't know why you are even friend with her. In any case, you have me now. Now you don't have to worry about anything."

Charlotte sniffed and looked up at her fiancé. "Thanks, Nathan." She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

Lizzy lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling. _Who _is _she now? _She wondered. She hardly knew what to think anymore.

Jane was wondering similar things in her own bed about Charles. Everything had happened so suddenly she hardly knew what to think anymore…

Anne sat in the window seat of Pemberly's parlor. A tear slipped down her cheek. _What am I supposed to do? _

Lady Catherine stood by the wall outside of Pemberly's parlor watching her daughter. _She looks so sad… but I just want to let her make the right decision. Without guidance, young people often go astray. I had almost done the same thing myself… but she looks so sad…_

**A/N: Well, I had a really hard time writing this chapter, surprisingly difficult. But I got through, only a week after the planned release… anyway, I have a lot already planned out in my mind, and I'll try to get a lot done this summer. Thanks for reading! Please review ****. **


	19. Strange Realizations at a Wedding

**A/N: Okay, I just realized, that for some strange reason, my section separators don't turn up on ff. I put little hyphens between sections, and while I was reading chapter 18, I discovered they don't show up! So sorry if it's been confusing. I'll try to fix it this chapter! Anyway, long chap. coz I love you all for your very nice comments, and also because it's JulNoWriMo and I'm stuck on my other story. (big surprise)**

**Quick note: the story skips ahead 3 months, because I don't want to bore you all with the characters all moping. **

Chapter 19: Strange Realizations at a Wedding

_April 23__rd__, 2010_

"Charlotte!" Lizzy rushed to greet her friend.

"Lizzy!" Charlotte exclaimed, "It's so good to see you!" And indeed, the sight of her dearest friend made Charlotte so very happy. In January, she had been afraid she would lose her best friend in the world, but Lizzy had come to her senses after all and decided to support her. Perhaps, there was no longer the easiness of their relationship prior to her engagement, for they discussed lighter topics in conversation. They no longer spent so much time discussing feelings. However, perhaps it was to be expected when one friend married… In any case, she was satisfied.

"There better be lots of food at this wedding; I'm starving," Lizzy declared, and Charlotte laughed.

"There should be plenty. Feel free to stuff yourself."

"Ah, perfect." Lizzy grinned, and hugged Charlotte. They walk towards the house. "Did you finally decide on the dress?" Lizzy asked.

"Yes," Charlotte turned, excited, towards Lizzy. "It's beautiful. It's white, and it's absolutely perfect. I feel like a princess every time I even look at it."

"I want to see it," Lizzy demanded.

"Of course. Let's go!" They took off running, and just as they reached the front step, the door opened and Nathan Collins stood staring disapprovingly at them. Charlotte immediately slowed to a walk, but Lizzy ran a few more steps before stopping.

Collins frowned. "Lizzy, it is _so _good to see you again."

Lizzy was unsure how to respond. "It's nice to see you again, too," Lizzy lied.

"May I take you on a tour around the house?" he asked, obviously wanting to show off, but Lizzy didn't particularly want to hear him give detailed commentaries on all the furniture.

"Actually, Charlotte was just going to take me to see her dress."

"Ah, well, when you are done, please let me know. I would be happy to show you around."

"Thank you," Lizzy responded. Then, glancing at Charlotte, they head upstairs.

"Uhm," Charlotte began awkwardly, "I know it's a little weird between you two—"

"It's okay, don't worry about it," Lizzy cut her off, not wanting to discuss Collins. They were friends again. There was no need to talk about this. "Charlotte, I'll be honest. I don't really approve of you guys being married. I think that you two are on different levels. But, if you are happy, then I will do my best to support you. I'm sorry I was being such an idiot before," she apologized.

Charlotte's eyes looked especially moist, and Lizzy was afraid that she would start to cry. However, Charlotte regained her composure and opened her bedroom door. She crossed the room to the closet, and opens it with a flourish.

Lizzy stepped in. Right at the back of the closet, impossible to miss, was the bride's dress.

"Holy crap!" She whistled, looking back at Charlotte.

Charlotte beamed and blushed.

"It's beautiful! It fits you so well," she complimented.

Charlotte blushed. "You're too generous with your flattery."

"I'm not flattering you, Charlotte; I'll leave it to the dress itself."

Charlotte laughed. "Thank you, Lizzy. You look so good in the bridesmaid dress too! Have you seen the alterations?"

"No, I haven't. I haven't even opened the box."

"Well, let's go see it," Charlotte suggested.

Lizzy laughed. "This seems an awful lot like dress-up."

"Ah well, we can only be young for so long," Charlotte observed, and there was just a hint of bitterness in her voice. Lizzy did not fail to notice it.

"Cheer up, Char, you're getting married. After that, it doesn't matter whether you're young or old."

Charlotte laughed again, glad that she had such a good-natured friend who understood her so well. "Anyway, I'll show you to your room. All your luggage is already there."

"Okay," Lizzy agreed.

When they entered the room, Lizzy gasped. "This is a beautiful room," she exclaimed. Indeed, it was. Sunlight was streaming in through two large, floor to ceiling windows, on either side of a four-poster canopy bed. "I can't understand why you don't sleep in this."

"Well, Nathan—"

Lizzy bit back an insult of Charlotte's future husband. _I must be supportive, _she reminded herself.

"—likes it better in the other room—says it's bigger. Also, this one doesn't have an attached bathroom," Charlotte explained.

"Well, anyway," Lizzy said, finding the suitcase with her bridesmaid dress. She zipped open the suitcase and pulled out the box. She opened it, and held up the dress to the light. She remembered it being a light salmon color, long and elegant, although a little over-decorated.

Since she had last seen it, there had been a few… additions. More ruffles on the straps at the top. Lizzy thought they were rather unflattering; it added _too _much to the dress, already decorated with beads in the skirt and glitter and sequins in the bodice. The addition of the ruffles consequently made the front look a lot smaller, and Lizzy was uncertain about the sizing of certain… areas.

"Looks great," she made an effort to sound enthusiastic.

"Yeah!" Charlotte replied with much more enthusiasm than Lizzy. "Lady de Bourgh suggested the additions. She said that the maid of honor should stand out over the other bridesmaids."

"Ah, did she know I was the maid of honor?" Lizzy asked, feeling rather weak. Perhaps this was a plot to humiliate her and make her look as unattractive as possible.

"I think Collins mentioned it to her, why?" Charlotte asked.

"Oh, no reason," she sat down.

"Anyways, I'm _so_ excited!" Charlotte exclaimed.

"We're going to have a beautiful ceremony, and get this, Will is coming!"

Lizzy was beginning to feel sick. "Darcy? Why him?" She said this more to herself than to Charlotte, but Charlotte replied anyway.

"It's because he's Lady de Bourgh's nephew, and she'll be there too!"

"Ah, that's great."

"Lizzy, are you feeling okay?" Charlotte asked. "You look a little pale."

Lizzy laughed unconvincingly. "Oh, I'm just a little tired, that's all."

"Well, you should get some sleep then before the rehearsal dinner tonight! I'll leave you alone, then."

"Thanks," Lizzy replied.

Lizzy laid down on the bed, feeling suddenly tired.

Lizzy was unsure how to feel about Darcy's presence at the wedding. She hadn't seen him since she realized Wickham was a rotten bastard and he broke up Jane and Charlie.

Ah, Jane… Jane had gone to New York, and Lizzy was a little distressed to read Jane's emails. They convinced her of Jane's continued misery, even though she attempted to sound happy. She even attempted to persuade Lizzy that she was "way over the Charlie business." Lizzy didn't believe a single word of it.

At least Jane had finally realized Caroline's true personality. Lizzy was glad that they had both broken out of their disillusionment about certain persons. But Jane was even sadder due to the loss of a supposed friend.  
It was finally Caroline's cold reception of her in New York that convinced her of her own mistake. But so far, she had not seen Charlie. She was beginning to think that Caroline was keeping him from her, and Lizzy was immensely happy that Jane was growing wise to the world…

The door opened suddenly. Lizzy sat up blearily, waking up suddenly.

"Huh, what? What time is it?" she asked, blinking owlishly, thinking that Charlotte had come to wake her up for the rehearsal dinner. She pulled down her shirt, which had ridden up her midriff.

Then she realized that the person standing in the doorway was not Charlotte, but none other than Darcy. He immediately turned away.

"Sorry, wrong room," he muttered.

Lizzy glanced at her watch. "Holy—it's already six!"

"Yes, it is," Darcy replied calmly.

"Holy crap!" Lizzy exclaimed. She jumped out of bed. She crossed to her door, and pushed it closed. It did not close fully, leaving it slightly ajar. Darcy was a little surprised to have a door swing so fast into his face, and he stepped back, astonished.

Lizzy whipped off her shirt, and searched through her suitcase for a dress because "Lady Catherine de Bourgh expects proper dress. Anything less than decent would offend her delicate sensibilities." In addition to that warning, she was also given the advice, "Oh, do _try_ your best Lizzy. I am sure her Ladyship will not be too offended if you do not reach her expectations." _Collins,_ she thought, as she gritted her teeth. Feeling a draft, she glanced at the door.

"You're still there? And you didn't have the decency to close the door and leave?" she demanded. All of a sudden, all her anger towards him for breaking up Jane and Charlie rushed back and manifested itself in her words. She slammed the door in his face. He stood outside for a few seconds, then called, "I'm sorry, Lizzy. I'll see you around."

She frowned, and returned to ransacking her luggage. She found a blouse and skirt, and rapidly pulled them on. As she pulled on pantyhose, there was a knock at the door.

"What?" she yelled at the door.

"I came to see if you were ready for dinner," Charlotte said.

"Ah, sorry," Lizzy blushed, "I thought you were Darcy."

Charlotte opened the door, and stared at Lizzy. "Are you wearing _that_?"

Lizzy looked down at her outfit. It looked okay to her. Conservative and professional. Then she looked at Charlotte. Charlotte was wearing a black cocktail dress with straps that crossed her back. Her hair was done up in curls that hung down from a very neat coif at the back of her head. Lizzy touched the back of her head, where her hair hung in a messy ponytail. Feeling very self-conscious now, she took the rubber band out of hair and retied it.

Charlotte frowned. "Here, let me help you," she offered, standing behind Lizzy. She took a hold of Lizzy's hair, and ran a comb through it. Lizzy winced as the comb caught a snag.

"Here," she handed Charlotte a brush.

Charlotte took it wordlessly and continued on. "Did you just wake up or something? Your hair is so tangled!"

Lizzy blushed. "Yeah, kinda."

Charlotte laughed. "Figures. That's my Lizzy! Well, we better hurry up. Apparently, Lady de Bourgh is almost here!"

"Yeah and her nephew too," Lizzy complained.

Charlotte sensed the unhappiness in Lizzy's voice. "Oh, come now. Let's all be friends. I mean, what he did to Jane was wrong, but he might have an explanation."

"Like what? That our family isn't good enough to associate with the Bingley family? Or we aren't rich enough, or our familial connections aren't high enough?"

"Lizzy, dear, slow down. You know, after all you've told me, I would have thought you'd have known better. You _have _been wrong about him before. What's stopping you from being wrong again?"

Lizzy sighed, and closed her eyes. "You're right, Charlotte. I mustn't let my temper affect my judgment. I'll just… ask him."

Charlotte laughed. "Make sure you're asking him before you begin shouting."

Lizzy laughed too. "Of course, Char."

"There you are, Lizzy," Charlotte put one final pin in Lizzy's hair, and Lizzy turned to look into the mirror. The top half of her hair was pulled back from her face, and the bottom hung, slightly wavy underneath it.

Lizzy grinned. "You're a genius, Char."

"I like pampering you," Charlotte explained. "You're so pretty, it's hard not to treat you like my very own Barbie doll."

"I beg to differ," Lizzy protested, "Barbies are blonde. If you _must _choose a Barbie doll in the Bennet family, it would be Jane. Or maybe Lydia, for pure sluttiness."

Charlotte tried to conceal a chuckle. "You shouldn't be so mean about your own sisters," she admonished.

"Ah, but it isn't mean when it's true," pointed out Lizzy.

"Still," Charlotte searched for another argument. Finally giving up, she said, "You're right. There's no way I can say anything good for her."

The doorbell rang. "Oh my gosh! It must be Lady de Bourgh," Charlotte exclaimed, suddenly looking very flustered.

"Calm yourself, Charlotte. She's not that important. What's important today is you, and not her." But Charlotte wasn't listening. She had rushed out of the door and was beginning to run downstairs.

"Wait up, Charlotte!" Lizzy shouted. She ran out of the room and followed her friend down the stairs, running to catch up. Unfortunately for her, she was not the most graceful person in the world, nor was she paying a lot of attention to where she was going. Moreover, she had just seen someone she had not expected to see at the bottom of the stairs. Consequently, she misjudged her step a few stairs from the bottom, and tumbled headlong down the last few steps.

She would have fallen very ungracefully on her face, in front of Lady Catherine de Bourgh (who had just entered the house). Fortunately for her, there was someone waiting at the bottom of the stairs. She fell right into the waiting arms of… Fitzwilliam. Richard Fitzwilliam.

Richard Fitzwilliam stuck out his arm at chest level, and caught Lizzy before she fell. However, though she retained at least some of her dignity, this also meant that Richard's arm was squishing very uncomfortably against her breasts. There was a moment of extreme awkwardness, before they immediately separated.

Behind Richard, his cousin coughed. Anne frowned slightly, and both Richard and Lizzy blushed furiously. Lady Catherine looked on with extreme disapproval.

"Thanks," she muttered.

"Uh, don't worry about it," Richard said embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck.

However, an imperious voice broke the awkward silence that was threatening to form.

"How clumsy," Lady Catherine de Bourgh commented rather snottily.

Lizzy's face burned with shame, though in any ordinary situation, she would not have felt embarrassed. But after all the hype about Lady de Bourgh, she felt even more self-conscious than before. She immediately straightened her blouse and skirt.

"Darcy," her Ladyship exclaimed, moving on. She strode forward, breezing past Lizzy, leaving behind the rather sickly scent of her heavy perfume. Lizzy nearly gagged at the smell, but she held her reaction in. She was not sure whether it was supposed to be floral or more musky. She suspected someone may have made a mistake and dumped at least twenty types of perfumes into Lady Catherine's perfume bottle, and sprayed her numerous times with it.

Lady Catherine embraced her nephew, completely ignoring her other, albeit less legitimate, nephew.

Lizzy frowned. It was unfair, this favoritism. No wonder Richard constantly felt insecurity, and refused to take what should have been rightfully his. No wonder he didn't stand up for himself.

She signaled Richard behind the Lady's back, indicating the dining room. He gratefully walked towards the dining room with Lizzy, past Charlotte and Collins, who were standing nervously in the doorway.

Both Darcy and Anne watched them go, with slightly jealous expressions on both of their faces.

"Thanks," Richard told Lizzy as soon as they were in the room.

"Don't worry about it," Lizzy responded, smiling brightly.

"It's so awkward with everyone. I feel like I'm unwelcome, but Darcy insisted that I come. I don't know why… It seems kind of pointless to me."

"It's not pointless at all," Lizzy said. "Look, just because ol' Cathy is the biggest bitch the world has ever seen (including Caroline Bingley, I might add), does not mean she's right about everything. In fact, I don't know anything that she's right in… Hmm…" Lizzy actually began to think if Lady Catherine had been right about something, but racking her brains, she could not.

"Look, don't let her get you down, Rich," she put a hand over his, and he smiled weakly at her.

"Thanks, Lizzy. It really means a lot to me when you say such nice things to cheer me up."

At that moment, Lady Catherine strolled into the room, frowning at the sight of Lizzy and Richard. She had been suspicious of them as soon as they left the room, and now her suspicions seemed confirmed, not that _she _cared. First off, she was glad to get rid of Richard. She had expected more opposition concerning the long-awaited engagement, but this was terrific! He had found someone new. She knew that he couldn't be _that _attached to Anne; he probably just wanted to buy his way into the family. In any case, she couldn't give a damn what he did, as long as it didn't interfere with her master plan. And, she suddenly realized, this was doubly suited to her plans, as it also took Lizzy out of the way. She had suspected that Darcy still had lingering feelings for that… _riffraff _girl. But after seeing her clumsiness, it was probably impossible that he would still have those feelings.

"Collins!" she barked.

"Yes?" He was at her side in a moment, like a dog, overeager to please its master.

"Show us around the house. I should like to see how you have furnished it before the other guests arrive," she demanded.

"Of course," he bowed several times. Lizzy felt extremely embarrassed for him. Why was he so _abnormal_?

He launched into his tour of the house. "Of course, this is the dining room," he pointed.

_Obviously_. Lizzy rolled her eyes.

"We have furnished it with a twelve-person table, made of the finest cherry. The curtains were tastefully—" Here, Lizzy suppressed her urge to vomit. It was a sickening yellowish brownish green color. It seemed to have come crawling straight from the sewers. She glanced at Charlotte; her face was bright red, but she had nothing to add.

"—chosen to complement the light of the room in the afternoon. The windows do face west, you know."

"And," Charlotte jumped in, "here's the kitchen." She quickly stepped forward to a door on the side of the room.

"Wait, my dear," Collins had obvious not taken the hint to shut up. "The windows were especially designed to let in the afternoon's light, but not so much that it would blind one, if one were sitting in this room during the summer."

"Of course not… the curtains already do that," Lizzy muttered under her breath.

Someone choked behind her. She looked around to see Darcy. _Why is he standing so close to me? _She scowled and stepped forward. Charlotte followed and moved towards the kitchen.

"Let's see the kitchen now," she suggested.

Lady Catherine took one final look at the dining room before nodding, as if to express her satisfaction.

"And do tell me, how many servants do you keep?"

"We have quite a few," he boasted. "Four, to be exact."

Darcy, who had stepped so far forward that he was now nearly shoulder to shoulder to Lizzy shifted uncomfortably.

_Doubtless, he has many more in his household. Nothing to be proud of, if you can't do a little manual labor by yourself. _Lizzy was completely unimpressed by Darcy's seemingly boundless wealth.

They passed through the kitchen rapidly because Collins felt that it would offend Lady Catherine's delicate sensibilities.

Lizzy was so bored that she began making commentaries on Collins's commentaries. She muttered these under her breath. However, to her chagrin, Darcy was _always_ listening. She did not appreciate his "eavesdropping." After a few incidents, she kept these commentaries purely mental, allowing her inner voice to take charge in disparaging Collins's boasting.

When they ducked into Lizzy's room, Lady Catherine de Bourgh asked, "And who is staying here? A pig? It seems hardly cleaner than a sty!"

"I beg your pardon, _ma'am_," Lizzy spoke up, "what fault do you find in my organizational skills?"

"I would find fault in them, except that you have none. There is no semblance of order in this room. I, for one, would never allow any rooms in my house to be in this state! Perhaps you should take some time and utilize the furniture in the room." She pointed to the dresser and the closet.

_Not that I care about your opinion,_ narrated Lizzy's mind.

"It works for me. I always know where to find things. If you don't like it, then that's your business. How I choose to arrange my personal effects has nothing to do with you." Collins coughed and stared meaningfully at Lizzy, while drawing a hand across his throat, as if to indicate she should stop. She paid no heed.

"Why, _Elizabeth_, I was simply offering a _friendly_ suggestion to help improve your life. I'm sure it must be hard living like such. But then again, such qualities can only be expected in _your _level of people."

"Excuse me? Do you think that you're better than me simply because you have a title and money? Who you were born to does not truly determine the quality of your person. Money has even less to do with it. Plenty of people earn money in unscrupulous ways. The fact is, that it is the man himself that determines his worth, not his social class, nor his wealth. I, for one, have no respect for someone like you, who always looks down on other people. You are abominably rude to nearly everyone, even your own nephew, whom you deny simply because he is related by blood to you. But people can be family without true blood ties. Indeed, many people are closer to the people who are not directly related to them. Or else, what would be the point of friends?"

"Friends?" Lady Catherine sneered. "It seems, little girl, that you still have a lot to learn about this world. There is no need for silly things like _friends_ when you are peerless. You may find me rude, but I find you impertinent and ignorant. And who are you to comment on my dealings with my family?"

"Oh, so you _do _admit he is family?"

Richard glanced nervously between the two women. Anne looked at Richard, and she wished she could hold his hand to reassure him, but he was too far away, and she could not reach him.

Darcy, on the other hand, was looking at Lizzy with new-found admiration for her courage. Collins looked almost despairingly between his patron and his fiancée's friend. Why could Lizzy not be quiet? It was not her place to criticize anything Lady Catherine did. She was probably too ignorant to understand the complex reasons behind her actions.

"I do no such thing," Lady Catherine retorted. "And I see it is pointless to try to explain things to a girl as thick as you. Of course, those at your level are only allotted a certain amount of understanding. It is not for you to understand the complexity of my actions."

Lizzy shrugged. "Believe what you want to believe, but it is not I who is truly ignorant."

Lady Catherine de Bourgh gave an inner shudder. How _dare _that slip of a girl insult the great Lady Catherine de Bourgh? However, beneath all her simmering anger, there lay another emotion, one that stood in stark contrast to the fury that showed plainly on her face.

The other emotion was uncertainty. Was she right? How could someone _not _respect her? She was Lady Catherine de Bourgh, peerless and kind enough to condescend to offer advice to her inferiors! Though she was rich and high up in society, she was kind enough to offer charity to those less fortunate than her. How could she not be respected? How could she not be a wonderful person for all her wealth and social standing?

She shook her head rapidly. It was useless to listen to the words of someone less educated than she. Why was she feeling so insecure? It must have been the caviar she ate earlier… something had seemed wrong. She quickly snapped at Collins to continue on.

He, looking extremely embarrassed, alternatively bowed and apologized for the actions of his guest.

She didn't want to hear it, and gave him a verbal kick to the behind. He rapidly proceeded throughout the house. When they had finished the tour of the house (made more uncomfortable by the ill feeling between two very strong personalities), they returned to the dining room.

"The guests will be arriving soon," Charlotte commented randomly. Nobody heard her.

"May it please your Ladyship to sit at the head of the table?" Collins asked, a nasal tone to his voice. It sounded like a whine in Lizzy's ear, and she tried to keep from scowling.

"Good God, Collins," Lady Catherine exclaimed, regaining fervor in her kind pieces of advice now that she had dismissed the ridiculous notions of _that girl_, "have you no sense at all? You are the head of this household, and the host. Of course, you will sit at the head of the table. Your wife will sit across from you."

"Of course, my Ladyship, you are right. I apologize for my silly mistake," he bowed, and took a seat at the head of the table. Charlotte took the seat right next to Lizzy. If she was embarrassed by her fiancé, she did not show it.

_She's adjusting well,_ Lizzy thought. _Soon, her face will be an impassive mask, and then where will my dear, dear librarian be? I hope in the face of concealing her true feelings that she will at least leave an opening for me to perceive her as she is. _Lizzy suddenly felt the weight of the impending marriage.

"Who else is coming?" Lizzy muttered out of the side of her mouth to Charlotte, as the others took their seats.

"Only a few more are coming," Charlotte glanced at the empty seats, "but Lady Catherine felt it would be more appropriate to keep the dinner small."

"Ah," Lizzy remarked. Darcy had sat down across from her, and she was working hard not to glare at him, remembering Charlotte's words.

There was a great deal of small talk for a quarter of an hour more, until the rest of the guests had all arrived. They took their seats around the table. Charlotte's and Collins's parents greeted each other enthusiastically, and exchanged friendly words.

Sir Lucas was all politeness, evidence of his high breeding. Much to Lady Catherine's surprise, he was born British, and had spent a great deal of time in the high society. However, she did not think he could have been _that _high-up, especially since he had ended up in America, _and _she had never heard his name mentioned before. Therefore, he must not have been very important, she concluded.

She condescended to engage in polite conversation with the families of both the bride and groom, and there was a great deal of politeness and bowing on their parts, and coldness on her part. At last, they sat down to dinner. Once the eating began, she found a great deal to discuss: the quality of the food, the timeliness of the servants, etc. At one point, as a girl clumsily dropped a plate, Lady Catherine beckoned her over and whispered in her ear. The girl immediately bowed, and left in tears.

Charlotte looked at this exchange with confusion. "Did she just fire one of our servants?" she asked.

"I believe so," Lizzy confirmed, frowning. She noticed that Collins was suddenly looking very disappointed. Suddenly interested, she looked closely at Collins, who seemed to be muttering under his breath, "Three, only three…" She almost smiled, but stopped herself.

"She did nothing wrong. I'm sure everyone's broken glass sometime in their lives," she continued.

"Ah," broke in Darcy suddenly. Lizzy looked up at him, astonished that he had chosen to butt in. He looked slightly embarrassed, but continued, "But servants are paid not to be clumsy."

"They are also paid to do what their employers are perfectly capable of doing themselves, but consider themselves to good, or too lazy to do," observed Lizzy.

"Or," he interjected, "what they do not have time to do."

"Oh, so we have time to sit down and eat a five-course meal, and waste time on polite small talk, yet we don't have time to get up and get our own food from the kitchen?" she asked.

Charlotte kicked Lizzy under the table. When Lizzy glanced at her friend, Charlotte gave her a warning stare. Lizzy didn't think it was necessary. However, it _was _Charlotte's rehearsal dinner, and so she stayed silent.

On seeing her fall silent, Darcy too returned to his customary reticence. He was in the process of demolishing a steak with his knife when he felt a foot nudge his calf, and slide upwards towards his knee. He shivered at the sudden, unexpected contact. He glanced furtively at Lizzy. She was looking at her plate, but was that… a smile? He was quite unsure what to think of this.

Was she _teasing_ him? He knew how she felt about him… or perhaps (his heart leaped hopefully) she had changed her mind about him. But no, thinking back on her attitude towards him, there was no possibility of that. He bitterly wondered what he had ever _truly _done to merit such censure. However, the only things that came to mind were her misunderstandings, though, it was true that he had failed to clarify them, for his pride would not allow it. In any case, there was no more reason to explain any further, as he was to be married in less than a month and a half.

Richard Fitzwilliam, unnoticed by his cousin, was extremely embarrassed. His attempt to play footsie with Anne had utterly failed, as he had misjudged distance under the table. _Awkward…_ he thought. He tried again, judging distance and direction more carefully. This time, he got the reaction he was looking for, with the right person. Anne straightened suddenly. Then a slight smile curved the edge of her lips, as she played along.

Very unfortunately, she too misjudged the location of Richard, and instead ended up nudging Lizzy's legs.

Lizzy jumped. She glanced around, trying not to seem too conspicuous. Then her eye fell upon Darcy, who appeared to be attacking his steak very viciously and strangely… with a _lot _of concentration. She narrowed her eyes at him.

Anne nearly choked with laughter. Richard had noticed too. He attempted to smother his mirth by taking another bite. Then, he had a brilliant idea. This time, he purposefully made a mistake in his intended target. Anne quickly caught on as Darcy choked on the drink he was taking.  
He began coughing very loudly.

"Are you okay?" Richard asked, pretending to be concerned.

Anne nearly grinned, but she attempted to look worried as she patted her fiancé several times on the back. "Drink slowly, Darcy."

He nodded, quite humiliated.

Lady Catherine glanced down the table at the first sound of coughing. But she was deprived of the opportunity to speak as the coughing fit did not last very long.

Darcy's mind was rapidly jumping to strange conclusions that did not make the least bit of sense, even to his mind. He still remained entirely confused. _What is she doing?_

A moment later, Lizzy received the same treatment. She was now entirely sure it was Darcy, who was looking a little red after coughing so much. She glared at him, and kicked him hard in the shin.

"Ow—" he exclaimed. He stared at Lizzy. Why was she suddenly kicking him now? He reached down and rubbed his shin surreptitiously.

But no matter how secretive he tried to be, Lady Catherine de Bourgh was watching him like a hawk, and noticed.

"My dear Will, is there something wrong?" she asked, instantly stopping all conversation.

"Uh, no." He mumbled. The tips of his ears were now red.

Anne and Richard were having a hard time controlling their laughter.

Anne began coughing loudly. Lady Catherine frowned. Could there be a bug going around? If there was, they would have to see the doctor immediately; she could not have her daughter and favorite nephew sick on the day of their long-awaited wedding… She decided to remain silent at that moment, but she would speak to them.

Charlotte looked rather confused at the moment. Everyone around her was behaving so strangely. Richard and Anne seemed to be in on an inside-joke. They could not stop shaking with suppressed laughter. Darcy seemed to be very disconcerted (perhaps this was due to the inside joke?). And Lizzy continued to seem in ill humor, although that could perhaps be explained by her exchange with the Lady… Charlotte frowned; no one ever told her anything, even at her own rehearsal dinner.

The rest of dinner continued with very little meaningful conversation. It was mostly small talk. Charlotte and Lizzy discussed dresses and cakes momentarily, before falling silent again.

Lady Catherine spoke a great deal, making comments about the furniture, the food, the service, the guests in attendance. Lizzy rolled her eyes a great deal, unable to avoid hearing her judgmental commentaries. Lady Catherine's voice was loud enough for her to hear, though the Lady was at the other end of the table.

Lizzy was beginning to get extremely bored at the dinner table. At least Darcy had stopped with his… whatever it was. She thought there was something going on between Anne and Richard, though. They kept staring at each other when they thought no one was watching, though Lizzy certainly noticed.

She nearly smiled at this, but she didn't. The rest of dinner passed extraordinarily slowly, and nobody seemed like they were getting anywhere close to finishing the meal. She sighed. She was going to have to make an excuse.

"Charlotte, I have a little headache," Lizzy said to Charlotte.

Charlotte looked worried. "Are you feeling okay? You looked really tired earlier."

"Yeah," Lizzy nodded, "I'll be okay. I probably just need a good night's sleep and some aspirin."

"All right, Lizzy, I hope you feel better soon."

"Thanks, Char." Lizzy nodded and excused herself from the table.

She went up the stairs, feeling the stares of the dinner guests on her as she left the room. She found her room, and stumbled in. She flopped down onto her bed, sighing as she hit the mattress. Nice as it was seeing Charlotte, she couldn't wait until the wedding was over. It was tiresome for her, considering whom Charlotte was marrying. It was also annoying to see Darcy again. Anyway, what was he trying to do under the table? That certainly was almost the most awkward thing to happen to her since… Collins's proposal. And she still had to find out exactly what had happened with Jane and Bingley…

She dozed off for a few more hours, feeling truly tired. She suddenly awoke, and found that it was 11:00 PM. It was extremely dark, and she lay on her back for a while. She realized that she had to go to the bathroom.

She reluctantly got up; she was feeling quite comfortable under the warm covers. She blearily wandered to the door, swaying slightly on her feet. She swung open the door and walked down the hallway to the bathroom. Yawning, she didn't notice that the light was on in the bathroom. She attempted to open the door.

It seemed to be blocked. She finally noticed that the light was on.

Apparently, rattling the doorknob had alerted the bathroom's occupant to her presence outside it. The door opened out and Anne stuck her head out.

"Oh, good, it's just you," she said.

Lizzy was about to ask, but Richard came out, grinning sheepishly. Lizzy rolled her eyes, while trying to conceal her smile.

"What, have you got Darcy bound and gagged in the bathtub?" she asked playfully.

"That would be nice," Richard wiggled his eyebrows, and Anne punched him in the shoulder.

"You go first, Rich," she told him. He nodded and ducked out the bathroom, saluting Lizzy as he walked out.

Lizzy slipped into the bathroom, closing the door. Anne would have to wait there for a suitable amount of time before slipping off to her bedroom (separate from Darcy's to "protect her innocence"). "So," she began.

Anne laughed. "Uh, a little awkward."

"This whole day's been super awkward," Lizzy pointed out.

Anne suddenly remembered the adventures under the table, though she decided not to tell Lizzy who it had really been. After all, who knew what would happen.

"Are you still going through with the wedding? I mean, you guys are still hiding in bathrooms making out…"

"Why?" Anne asked, cocking her head to the side. "Does it interest _you_?"

Lizzy blushed. She was prying. "Well, uh, not exactly. But I mean, uh, you know."

Anne raised an eyebrow, and Lizzy stopped stuttering, looking at her feet.

"You're right, but who knows what will happen before June? I mean, I could just... happen to get pregnant suddenly. And, you know, it would be indecent for me to marry a man while carrying another man's child," Anne suggested.

"How do you propose this 'accidental pregnancy'?" Lizzy raised her eyebrows now.

"Well, you know, it's just so easy for accidents to happen. I could just… slip and fall, and end up pregnant. Or, you know, with all the cousinly hugging we do, I could just… accidentally get knocked up."

Lizzy chuckled. "I wouldn't actually be surprised if she bought that, expect for the fact that she probably knows how the whole thing works already, on account of you being born."

Anne sighed, suddenly serious. "I just don't see a valid way of getting through this. I mean, I keep getting mad at Darcy, and I feel really bad, because I've just been yelling at him, and I know he's done his best to make things work out—" she paused suddenly to study Lizzy's face for her reaction, but there was no discernible change in expression, "—I just don't see a way out. She has control over everything. The Darcy inheritance is in her hands until she deems it fit to return it to him. There's nothing he can do legally to escape that clause in the will that gives her control over the inheritance."

Lizzy hated seeing a friend so sad. She immediately hugged Anne tight. "It'll be okay," she assured, though those words meant nothing in the real world.

"No, it won't," Anne whispered, tears stinging her eyes.

Lizzy rubbed the girl's back. _It's all Lady Catherine's fault everyone's so miserable. If only there were some way of discrediting her, undermining her power, anything. _But think as she did, there did not seem to be any way. Lady Catherine de Bourgh was well-respected wherever she went, and she held much power and influence as well. It would take a complete lack of self-interest to go against her.

Outside the bathroom door, Darcy was listening. He had been listening for a while, after Richard had returned to his room (although he did not know Richard had been out and about). His ear was pressed to the door, and he was listening intently. Yes, to an outside observer, he would look more than inappropriate, but he felt that this was a conversation worth eavesdropping on. After all, it was _Anne_ and… _Lizzy_.

"You know, statistically speaking, arranged marriages often end up lasting longer, and love grows rather than declining because of the lower expectations entering into the relationship."

"That's very reassuring, Lizzy, to know that our marriage will last longer than the average marriage." She suddenly pulled herself away from Lizzy. "I could have an affair!" she exclaimed.

Darcy frowned outside. Was he that undesirable? Even for an arranged marriage?

Lizzy thought about it for a moment. "I think that would be doubly effective," she finally said. "For one, Darcy would have a good excuse to divorce you, and Cathy might just have a heart attack."

Anne laughed.

Darcy frowned again. _Cathy?_ It sounded strange that she was speaking of one of the most respected women in England with such nonchalance. But the fact that she was advocating a separation of him and Anne… but no, it was for Anne's sake. It had nothing to do with him. Or did it? Why had she kicked him after… after she had done unspeakable things under the table? No, it wasn't that bad in reality. His mind made it sound dirtier because he was unwilling to put into words what had occurred. She had… The doorknob turned.

He rapidly flattened himself against the wall to the left of the door. The bedrooms were all on the right. He hoped they would leave without seeing him. _Hurry up and go. Don't turn around. Don't turn around. _Anne left the bathroom without even glancing at him. He waited for Lizzy to do the same, but she did not. Instead, she had turned on the faucet and it sounded like… was she brushing her teeth?

Darcy ground his teeth in frustration. The door was still open, so he could not sneak by without her seeing him in the mirror. Feeling extremely humiliated, he quietly bent over on the ground, and began crawling past the bathroom door. It was extremely undignified, a man of his stature crawling on the floor like a worm, but he had no other choice. At eyelevel, he would be seen. He froze as a sudden increase of light fell on his face.

"Good Lord, Darcy, why are you crawling on the floor?" asked Elizabeth, her voice slightly muffled from the toothbrush she hadn't bothered taking out of her mouth, "have you broken both of your legs? Do you need help walking?"

He sensed she was teasing him, but he did not appreciate the humor. Trying to maintain most of his dignity (though failing), he stood up.

"Of course not," he said very curtly.

"Hang on," she had taken the toothbrush out of her mouth. She spit the toothpaste into the sink and wiped her mouth. He noticed that she had missed a spot of toothpaste on the side of her mouth. He wanted to tell her… or… or…. _or what? _His imagination was beginning to run away again, and he mentally berated himself. But, the little bit of froth on the corner of her mouth was so distracting. He forced himself to look at her eyes, but that made his agitated state of mind no better.

He felt a girlish sensation—the _fluttering _of his heart. He frowned at the cliché. What was he? A butterfly? In any case, Lizzy had started to speak again, and he refocused his attention on her mouth.

"Were you listening outside the door the whole time?" she asked.

Would she be angry if he said yes? He looked down at the bathroom tiles, glad to have a respite for his eyes. He immediately noticed when her right foot started moving up and down in a tapping motion. His eyes moved back to her face. Her arms were crossed, and she looked at him expectantly.

He averted his eyes again. "Uh, no, I was just, uh, getting some, er, water from the kitchen. Yeah, I was thirsty, but now I'm not. And I didn't want to disturb you from your… teeth-brushing. So… I'll just go to my, uh, room." _Care to join me?_ his mind automatically finished the question. He frowned again. Where was this voice coming from? It certainly wasn't his!

_Oh really?_

He scowled. So maybe it was, but it still made no difference.

"Ah well, it's okay," she turned back to the sink. "Not that it makes a difference anyway."

He saw her roll her eyes at her reflection.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"It doesn't change anything. I mean, you didn't hear anything _new_, did you?"

"I suppose not," he admitted.

"Well then, there you go." She returned to brushing her teeth, remembering that she was supposed to still be angry at him for Jane and for that… thing at dinner. Strange that the recollection would cause an increase in her pulse, but she pointedly ignored it. It meant nothing, except anger. Yes, that was it. It was simply anger. It was a simple, but realistic explanation for the physiological changes in her. It had nothing, nothing at all, to do with her feelings (except anger) about Darcy.

"Excuse me, but do you _mind_?" she had turned back to him, and he jumped, slightly startled.

"Oh, um, I'm sorry." He suddenly noticed he was watching her brush her teeth. He quickly made his way back to his bedroom. Lizzy finished brushing her teeth, and finally had the chance to go to the bathroom before going to bed.

* * *

Lizzy was standing at the altar. _This isn't right. When was I supposed to get married?_ She glanced at the guests sitting in the pews. Her mother grinned idiotically and gave her a wave. She spotted Jane in the front row, and wondered vaguely why she wasn't a bridesmaid. She smiled at her sister, who did not smile back, but simply stared accusingly at her.

_What? _She mouthed to her sister, who quickly turned her head. _Where is he? _Lizzy wondered, although she still had no idea who "he" was. She glanced around at the clock. He was late, although she didn't know how she knew that. Finally growing impatient, she ran out of the church.

Nobody followed her. They simply stared at her with blank, disapproving stares. She felt very self-conscious, and ran as fast as she could. In her haste, she tripped over her long skirt, and fell over. However, her fall was not painful, as she might have expected. She landed softly. Perhaps it had something to do with the yards of material in her skirt. She stood up and looked around her. She had walked into a ballroom.

All of the people were wearing masks, and their heads were all turned towards her. She gave a small wave, and they all turned back to their business. Most were dancing. Some were loitering around, drinking flutes of champagne.

Suddenly, a man approached her. He was dressed in entirely white, and looked fashionable, though she could not see his face.

"May I have this dance?" he asked with a slight bow.

"Uh, yes," she agreed, taking his outstretched hand.

As he whirled her around the dance floor, she studied his face. "You look very familiar," she told him.

"Maybe you're just dreaming," he answered.

"Maybe," she said. Suddenly, she realized who he was with a start. "Wickham?"

His mask seemed to melt off. She had no idea if he had taken it off, or it had fallen off, but one moment it was there, and the next moment it was not.  
"You rat bastard," she shouted at him. She slapped him, and he seemed to disappear. She glanced around to see where he went, but he had disappeared into the crowd.

She felt a touch at her waist, and she seemed to freeze. She tried to turn around to see who it was, but she could not move. A moment later, she heard a silky smooth voice in her ear.

"Lizzy," he breathed.

She shivered at the sound.

"Who are you?" she whispered back.

"You know who I am," he replied. "I'm the one you want."

She protested, "There isn't anybody—"

"No, you know there is. Stop lying to yourself. It's time to wake up, wake up, WAKE UP."

Lizzy felt the covers ripped from the bed. She opened her eyes. "Charlotte?"

"That's me," Charlotte replied. "You have to help me! I only trust your opinion."

Lizzy sat up, seeing the arsenal of makeup supplies and hair supplies Charlotte had brought her.

"We don't have that much more time," Charlotte explained.

"What?" Lizzy glanced at the clock. "We still have, like, five hours."

"Yeah, but it isn't enough, look at me!" Charlotte looked like she had just gotten up as well.

"Oh, I see. Let's get started, then," Lizzy said, jumping out of bed, ready to help her friend. "I think you should put your dress on first?"

"Yeah, I suppose so. But what if we get lipstick on it?" Charlotte clapped her hands to the side of her face.

"The _horror_," Lizzy remarked rather drily. "We'll just put something over it. Just put it on."

While Charlotte was obeying Lizzy's instructions, Lizzy had taken the bridesmaid's dress out of the box, and was staring at it dubiously. It didn't look any better in the bright light of day.

"Zip me up," Charlotte requested. Lizzy turned her attention back to her friend. This was _her _day, and she knew not to mess around her Charlotte today. Charlotte was usually very calm and acted very deliberately, but today, Lizzy suspected she might border on neurotic.

She quickly zipped the zipper at the back of Charlotte's dress. It was a rather tight squeeze, but the zipper got to the top. She did the clasp at the top. Then, acting quickly, she draped a blanket over Charlotte.

"Here," she handed Charlotte various face products. "Clean your face, moisturize, then foundation."

Charlotte was glad Lizzy was taking charge. She felt that she could breathe a sigh of relief; the situation was under control. Meanwhile, Lizzy had grabbed a brush and was running it through Charlotte's hair.

"How do you want it done?" Lizzy asked.

Charlotte paused in her face-cleaning process to hand Lizzy a picture. "Lady Catherine picked it out," she explained.

"Of course," Lizzy sighed. It looked rather complicated; lots of braids and curls and (she suspected) a lot of pins. She began the process of detangling Charlotte's hair.

Charlotte handed a detangling spray to Lizzy, who took it gratefully. "You're very prepared," she observed.

"Courtesy of Lady de Bourgh."

"Of course," Lizzy repeated. She proceeded to follow the picture as closely as she could. Occasionally, Charlotte would hand her a pin, which Lizzy would take gratefully. They worked well as a team, and an hour and a half, Lizzy had completed all the curls and braids depicted in the picture.

There was a knock at the door.

"Who is it?" Lizzy asked.

"It's me," a male voice said.

Lizzy had little patience. She did not want to guess who it was. Besides, all of her focus was in pushing as many pins as she could into Charlotte's hair.

"If it's Collins, go away. You're not supposed to be here. Otherwise, I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific."

Charlotte smiled, applying some more eye shadow.  
"It is me, Fitzwilliam Darcy," he announced.

"What do you want," Lizzy sighed.

"I have the flowers for the bride."

Charlotte smiled. "Let him in, Lizzy."

"Fine, permission granted for entrance," she announced rather sourly.

He entered, rather staggered in. He was holding several bouquets of various roses. "I wasn't sure which one you'd like," he muttered, embarrassed to see Lizzy. He kept his gaze on Charlotte. "So, I got a bunch."

"A bunch, indeed," Charlotte's eyebrows were raised high.

He laughed nervously, and Charlotte smiled. "Thank you so much," she said.

"Any time," he said before ducking out of the room, deliberately avoiding Lizzy's gaze, as she was avoiding his.

"I had the strangest dream last night," Lizzy announced rather randomly.

"Oh?" Charlotte raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"No, not that _that _kind of dream," Lizzy rolled her eyes. It was so like Charlotte to jump to conclusions. "I was getting married, and there was no one there, but all my family was there, and it was so weird, so I just left and I went into this ballroom, and it was so weird because everyone had masks and then I saw Wickham, but then he left, and then I heard a voice and he told me something, except I can't remember anymore…" She glared at Charlotte in the mirror. "That's your fault, too."

"Well, I'm sorry," Charlotte dragged out the last word, holding up her hands in defense. "How I was I supposed to know you were having a great dream?"

"Actually, I don't know if it was a good dream or not. It seemed more confusing than 'good.'"

"Confusing in what ways?" Charlotte inquired.

"I dunno. I think it had something to do with the voice. But I can't remember what it told me anymore… but it was awfully familiar."

"Or maybe," Charlotte attempted to play psychotherapist, "it was your subconscious telling you that," she paused dramatically, "you're schizophrenic."

The comment was so unexpected that Lizzy dropped the can of hairspray she was holding due to the laughing fit that had suddenly seized her.

"I'm sure that's it, Char," she told her friend.

Charlotte was having a difficult time trying to apply her lipstick because she kept smiling. She managed to get the lipstick on her left jaw.

"Lizzy, now that's _your _fault," Charlotte accused.

"Sorry, but you made us both laugh, so it's probably _your _fault too." She handed Charlotte a wipe, which she took gratefully.

"Or, maybe," Charlotte continued on with her theory, "you're in love." She said the last part in a quiet, conspiratorial tone.

Lizzy laughed, though she kept a hold of the hairspray this time. "You're so silly, Char."

"Don't write me off! It's a valid theory!" Charlotte exclaimed.

"Who would I be in love with?" Lizzy asked.

"Who do you think?" Charlotte rolled her eyes.

"I really have no idea," Lizzy said, "you'll have to enlighten me."

"Well, how many guys do you know, honestly. It's easy to narrow them down."

"Uhm… does Collins have a cousin?" she asked.

Charlotte chuckled. "Not that I know of. No, it's someone you know."

"Believe me, Charlotte, if I were in love with someone, I would be the first person to know."

"Au contraire," Charlotte said, "you would be the last to know, thick as you are. You never notice anything important."

"Uhm, definitely not Richard," she suggested.

"Nope, definitely not."

"Uhm, not Wickham."

"Obviously."

"Definitely not Bingley."

"Of course not."

"Oh my gosh, you think I like _Darcy_?"

Charlotte nodded. "I knew you would get it eventually, Lizzy. You're a smart girl."

Lizzy laughed, "No, no, no. You've got it all wrong. What would make you think that, anyway?"

"Uhm, considering all your _history_, for one, and also, you guys have been _so _awkward around each other. Don't think I haven't noticed. When he brought the flowers over, he was trying hard not to look at you, and you were doing the same thing."

Lizzy laughed. "Yeah, because we'd both rather avoid the unpleasantness of interaction."

"Well, at least promise me you'll find out what happened with Jane," Charlotte said. "You don't have to do anything else. Just make sure you find out about Jane, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," Lizzy said.

Charlotte's hair and makeup were finally done. Lizzy grinned. "You look beautiful," she complimented her friend.

"Of course I do," Charlotte snapped. "It's my wedding, after all. Everyone looks beautiful on their wedding." She grinned, and Lizzy grinned back. "Now, time for you!"

Lizzy glanced at the wrinkled clothes she had worn to sleep, and the dress on the dresser.

"Can't I just wear these to the wedding?" she begged.

"Not over my dead body," Charlotte glared.

"Hm," Lizzy put a thoughtful finger to her chin, "that _is _an idea…" Upon seeing Charlotte's glare turn from mild outrage to murderous, she rapidly said, "Kidding! Kidding!"

She changed into the dress, which was, as she had guessed, very tight around the top, uncomfortably so. Nevertheless, she did not complain. She did the rest of her hair and makeup with Charlotte's help. And when they finished, they still had an hour and a half to spare.

They sat on Lizzy's bed.

"I just realized," Lizzy said. Charlotte looked up. "You're getting married today!"

"Newsflash, Lizzy. What have we been preparing for for the last three and a half hours?"

"Huh," was Lizzy's only comment, as if she had only just realized the facts.

"You'll come visit me, won't you?" Charlotte asked, suddenly looking very serious.

"Yeah, of course!" Then, less enthusiastically, "I'm going to miss you so much, Char."

"I know, me too."

They held hands for a while.

"Don't cry," Lizzy finally said. "You'll mess up your makeup."

Unfortunately, this only made Charlotte want to cry more.

"Hey look!" Lizzy exclaimed. She sucked her cheeks in and pretended to be a fish. Charlotte laughed, glad that Lizzy was suitably distracting her.

"You know, you're the best friend I've ever had," Charlotte confessed out of the blue.

Lizzy stared at Charlotte, and then very truthfully replied, "You too."

Charlotte looked on the verge of tears again. Lizzy stood up quickly. "Which bouquet do you want for your wedding bouquet?" she asked.

Charlotte was suddenly very interested in the flowers.

"Do you think white would blend in too much with the dress?"

"Definitely. I'd go with something like… lime green or magenta. But those colors don't seem to be among the choices. But definitely go with roses."

"Of course," Charlotte smiled. "What about this one?" Charlotte asked, holding up a bouquet of pinkish orange roses framed by small sprigs of baby's breath.

Lizzy smiled. "They're perfect."

The door suddenly opened. Anne rushed in, her hair perfectly done up, her dress on, not a wrinkle in site. "We need to go now. There's traffic, apparently. So we have to go now if we're going to make it in time."

"All right, let's go!" Lizzy exclaimed. "Don't forget the bouquet."

"Lizzy, take another one for yourself. You too, Anne."

Lizzy glanced quickly at the bouquets, and took the bouquet of light blue and purple hyacinths. Anne took a bouquet of bright orange Gerber daisies.

The trio rushed downstairs. "Collins and the men have already left. Mother's going directly from her hotel, we're the only ones left," Anne updated them.

"All right," Lizzy smiled.

Charlotte looked very nervous.

"Don't be nervous, Char. This is your day," Lizzy reassured.

"And may I add, you look fantastic," Anne praised Charlotte.

"Thanks, both of you," Charlotte looked slightly less nervous now.

They hurried into the car that was waiting for them outside the house, and they chatted about weddings all the way to the church. Admittedly, Lizzy felt a bit left out, since she was the only one with no impending marriage, but she was content to listen to the others' plans.

They got to the church in time, so they didn't have to hurry.

Standing in the church was slightly embarrassing. Lizzy felt like a fool in her dress, too tight at the top, and ridiculously embellished.

However, at least she was a little happier to see that Collins had very few friends. Well, if he had friends, they had not attended his wedding. His guests were all family members. But Charlotte looked gorgeous, she thought. She was really too good for a husband like him, but what could she do? Charlotte was happy, so she had no place to complain.

Occasionally, she felt like someone was watching her, but whenever she looked around, there was no one looking at her. Perhaps she was just feeling more self-conscious than normal…

She cringed slightly, as did Charlotte as Collins corrected the minister on the vows. But the rest passed with no event. However, Lizzy _did _have to look away when Collins was permitted to "kiss the bride." She could support Charlotte in her decision to marry the man, but she would _not _watch public displays of affection. The wedding party quickly moved to reception, and there was a lot of dancing. Lizzy sat down, but she had been seated for only a few minutes when Richard came up to her and asked her to dance. She smiled and accepted.

"What happened to Anne?" she asked as they began.

He nodded his head to where Anne was dancing with Darcy. "Have to keep up appearances, you know," he winked.

"Of course," Lizzy smiled. "So, what's it going to be? Knocking her up, having an affair?"

"Preferably, knocking her up. I think having an affair would be a little late, and I don't like the idea of Darcy, you know."

Lizzy nodded, realizing that she didn't like the idea either. She wondered why. Ah, it was because it made Richard so uncomfortable.

"Well, best of luck to you in your endeavors."

He smiled, "Why thank you."

"Now go dance with her," Lizzy nodded towards Anne, who had sat down for a moment.

"You don't mind?"

"Of course not, go have your little cousin-dance. Strictly brother-sister love, now. No inappropriateness," she warned him with mock sternness.

"Yes ma'am! No touching below the waist. Got it!"

Lizzy laughed. "I bet you're going to take full advantage of that rule."

"Of course, ma'am. Now, if you'll excuse me… I have a 'sister' to dance with now," he bowed with mock formality and left. Lizzy laughed and found her way to the table. On the way, she grabbed a flute of champagne, deciding to savor it slowly. As she sat down, she saw Collins walking towards her with a determined look on his face. She chugged the champagne in one gulp. She was going to need it.

"My dear Elizabeth," he addressed her. She frowned at the address.

"Yes?"

"Would you do me the honor of giving me your hand for a dance?" he asked, bowing. While in Richard, it had looked playful and funny, in Collins, it spoke of pomposity and ridiculousness. Feeling the alcohol she had just swallowed, she almost giggled, but decided to keep her cool. _Try to think up an excuse. Try to think of an excuse. _She felt a touch on her waist.

"I'm sorry, but she has already agreed to dance with me," a smooth voice by her ear gave her the excuse she needed. Lizzy frowned. She knew it was Darcy. She now had to choose between two evils, although her decision was clear.

"Well, maybe another time," he said rather disappointed.

"Yeah, _maybe_," she emphasized the word. As soon as he left, she muttered under her breath, "Yeah, maybe never."

She heard a low chuckle in her ear, and realized Darcy was still there. He looked at her expectantly, stretching out a hand.

"Thanks for saving me, but I didn't know you were serious," she said.

"Do I look like I am the joking kind of man?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"Hm, well, I suppose it's only fair." She stood up and took his hand. He led her out onto the dance floor. She marveled at his skill at dancing. Why had she never had the chance to dance with him in a formal setting? He was amazing.

He maintained a light but firm touch on her waist, just enough to lead, yet not so tight that she felt constricted and uncomfortable. They were positioned so that there was just enough room between them that she didn't feel awkward. As she was whirled around the floor, she felt as light as air. She was so engrossed in the dance that she did not notice that they had garnered some attention from the couples in the room. They were matched so superbly that others could not help but stare in jealousy and admiration.

Those who watched them were surprised by how well they went together. They seemed to move with one mind. There were never any awkward moments or uncertain steps. They had never seen a happier man in the world. And the girl, though she did not necessarily show it on her face, she had a certain shine to her. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that they were in love, not least to Lady Catherine, who ground her teeth in frustration. Her plan was failing.

"You are very quiet," Lizzy observed.

"Do I have to be otherwise?" he asked.

"I suppose there is no one forcing you to. We could instead be silent and awkward."

"Very well, what should we talk about?" he asked, humoring her.

She remembered, with reluctance, what she had to ask him. She was certain it would spoil the pleasant mood between them, but she had to ask him before she lost the opportunity.

"Let's talk about my sister," she suggested casually.

He stiffened, and Lizzy could feel the new discomfort in his movements. The hand that held her waist had tightened.

"Which one?" he managed to maintain composure.

"Uh, the oldest Bennet girl, Jane," Lizzy said rather nonchalantly, as if simply throwing out a random name. But her conversation was neither random nor nonchalant. She carefully studied Darcy's face for any sign of guilt.

"How is she doing?"

"You're still going to pretend like you did nothing?" she demanded.

He could see it was useless to pretend any longer. "Well, what about it, then?"

"You were responsible for the separation of Jane and Bingley," Lizzy accused.

He did not answer, except brought her into another turn.

When she had returned to her arms, she asked, "Do you deny it?"

"I do not," he said stiffly.

"Then why? Why did you do it? Why did you expose them both to the misery of the acutest kind? Why would you separate a couple so obviously in love? What do you have to say for yourself?" she demanded.

_So many questions at once…_ His mind was trying to find a way to explain. "I—"

"Darcy!" Lady Catherine had hurried to her nephew as fast as she could. Her presence paved a path through the people.

"Yes, Aunt Catherine?"

His respectful, subservient tone disgusted Lizzy. She instantly broke apart from him, and walked away. Lady Catherine smiled. She had not thought her mere presence would be so effective. However, the Bennet girl had probably realized she was dealing with people of the wrong rank.

Darcy watched her go, a twinge of regret in his chest. Why couldn't he ever do anything right around her?

**A/N: I'm sorry if there are some places where I use present tense; it's because my other story is in present tense and I keep switching stories. I know there was one more I missed… ): Anyways, please excuse any mistakes, as this chapter was mostly typed feverishly late at night. **

**Also! GIVE SOME LOVE TO MY GIRL em38 for beta-ing for me **** Yeah, I would have included this in the beginning, but the A/N was getting long, and I didn't want to bore you before I had even started the chappie. So yeah, thanks Emsters for your lovely comments :) Please review, dearest readers!**


	20. Relationships, Broken and Otherwise

**A/N: My dearest readers, you know that I am about to give you a crappy explanation for my absence. So I will omit it (though I must say part of it is emluv38, the beta's fault :D), and hope that you have not forgotten me, and that the last chapter was long enough to tide you over. I hope you will keep reading, despite the fact that I did promise I wouldn't drag out chapter wait times this long. I'm really, really sorry. I wrote a good (?) chapter to make up for it? **

**Note: The Varsity Match is an annual rugby game between Oxford and Cambridge. I only know stuff from wiki, so sorry if it's not accurate haha. I think Cambridge did lose the 2000 game, though. **

Chapter 20: Relationships, Broken and Otherwise

_December 12, 2000: The Varsity Match_

"Come on, we're still tied!" Sebastian shouted at his teammate.

"I got it," Darcy muttered, his eyes still on the stands.

"What are you looking at?" Sebastian asked, following the direction of Darcy's eyes. There was nothing particular in the area. Maybe it was someone he knew. His mum, maybe? Sebastian snickered. "Is your mum up there?" he asked.

"My mum's dead," Darcy shot back, his eyes angry.

Sebastian backed away a step and looked down, unsure what to say. "Uhm…" he began lamely. "I'm so—"

"Save it," Darcy shoved the ball into Sebastian's chest.

"Uhm," Sebastian said again, but Darcy had already walked away. As he did so, he glanced back up to the stands. There she was again. She suddenly laughed at something the brown-haired boy next to her had said. His heart ached at the sight. He pretended that his love for her was so great, that he could even see her teeth, but who was he kidding? He didn't have hawk eyesight, nor was it possible "love" had given him that power. The only reason he could see her at all was that he had paid someone off to give her the ticket (with a specific seat number) he had bought her.

Darcy stood staring into the stands. Someone tapped him on the shoulder.

"Game's about to start, son," the coach told Darcy. He nodded in response and put his helmet back on.

"We're depending on you," the coach said, giving Darcy a fatherly pat on the back.

"Yeah, I know," Darcy muttered, taking one last look up at Lizzy, before turning away.

The game began again. Darcy played hard, but the other team played just as hard. Towards the end of the game, with ten seconds left, the outcome of the game fell upon Darcy's shoulders. If he could only score one last goal then Cambridge could win.

As if for luck, he turned his eyes towards Lizzy again, but it seemed that her face had disappeared from its familiar place. Then, he realized in horror that it was not that her face had disappeared, but that her face was hidden from view by a mop of brown hair.

He ground his teeth. _That damn bastard…_ In his distraction, he was bowled over by rather tall, wide player on the other team. They both fell to the ground as the clock rang out Cambridge's loss.

As he lay on the turf, he stared at the gray and unfriendly-looking sky in disappointment. He lay there for a moment before Sebastian came to pull him off the ground. Darcy felt a tug of sadness as he noted the disappointment in Sebastian's eyes.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I bet you guys are really mad at me, huh?"

"No, it's fine, Darce. It's not a big deal, really. I know it's a lot of pressure like that, and nobody blames you," Sebastian reassured Darcy.

But when Darcy returned to the locker rooms, all he could hear were whispers that sounded like things were being said about him, and all he could feel was the angry stares at his back.

"Tough luck, kid," was all the coach would say. "Better luck next year."

When Darcy returned home, he rubbed his face with both of his hands, feeling like a complete failure.

"Don't take it too hard," Sebastian said as he entered the dorm room and found Darcy in that position.

"Nothing ever goes right for me," Darcy remarked, laying down on the bed, and turning to face the wall.

"Don't say that. Everyone has their inconsistencies, and honestly, you're practically the best player we've got. Don't ever think that. There will be other games, and there will be some you'll win, and some you won't. Just get back up and go out and get 'em."

Darcy smiled slightly. "You could be a real inspirational motivational speaker."

"Thanks? I'm not sure if that's good or bad," Sebastian laughed.

Even Darcy managed to crack a slight smile.

_An Excerpt From the Journal of Miss Elizabeth Bennet_

_December 12, 2000_

Today was so weird. I hadn't intended on going to a football game, but somehow Jim Watley ended up with an extra ticket (the poor dear—his grandmother is ill, and he couldn't go!), and I ended up sitting next to Kevin, who was _super_ annoying. And he kept making incredibly stupid jokes. Am I supposed to laugh at them? They're not even funny! So in the end, I managed to keep up this croak-like nervous laughter whenever he opened his mouth. Okay, I may have badmouthed Darcy for being surly and frustrating, but at least he had some intelligence to him, even though that was outweighed by his stupid pride.

I thought that when the game started, he would shut up, but he didn't! Really, is it even possible for someone to talk that much? He would _not _shut his mouth. I tried offering him some food, I tried subtle shushing noises, I pretended to be interested in the game. But towards the end of the game he randomly leaned in towards me, and I was almost about to push him over, but it turns out he was picking up a piece of lint off my sweater, but honestly, he was _too_ close. Really too close for comfort.

So I ended up missing the last 5 seconds of the game, but apparently our team knocked down a guy from Cambridge, so we ended up winning. I guess that's good, not that I really care so much. I do not care for rugby players in general.

Lizzy sat on the couch of her family's house in Connecticut, feeling at a roadblock that she could not pass.

"ARGH!" Lizzy screamed in frustration.

"What is it?" Jane asked.

"I cannot get this passage to sound right. I've been working on it for months, and still, nothing."

"Let me read it," Jane asked.

"No!" Lizzy exclaimed, clutching her notebook to her chest.

"Oh come on, Lizzy. I'm your sister. I don't judge."

"That's not true, and you know it," Lizzy retorted.

"Well, at least I don't judge harshly," Jane amended.

"No, it's still so rough and unfinished. I just can't seem to understand how my characters are going to work out. I don't even have any idea of a plot. I just started this thing, and it already seems vastly complicated and unmanageable. I just don't know how the story works out realistically."

"Well, tell it to me," Jane suggested. "Maybe a psychologist can help you out."

"Okay, so there are these two friends who have this weird relationship. They respect each other in an academic way, but absolutely can't stand each other because they have different opinions on literally everything. They have this giant fallout, and then I don't know what should happen afterwards. Maybe they're just too different and they wouldn't be able to work it out… but maybe they could really be something…" Lizzy trailed off, thinking.

"I think you're thinking too hard," Jane commented. "Just do whatever you feel is right. I'm sure it will work out all fine."

"What's right…" Lizzy muttered. Suddenly, she brightened up. "By the by, _dearest _sister—"

"Uh oh," Jane looked apprehensive, "what have you done now?"

"Oh? Why do you instantly suspect me!" Lizzy opened her wide eyes in a gesture of innocence.

"Because whenever you try to convince me to participate in one of your terrible ideas, you always start out by sweetening your tone of voice. Don't try to fool me, _dearest_ sister," Jane smiled.

The doorbell rang.

"Here we are!" Lizzy announced.

"Who is it?" Jane whispered.

"A foreign exchange student I found at a coffee shop. He's from Italy, and he wants to meet you. I think you guys might have some things to discuss."

Lizzy ran to open the door. "Welcome, Carlo! This is Jane. Jane, Carlo."

"Ciao!" Carlo greeted the two sisters.

Carlo had a shock of bright red hair, and a thick mustache, which seemed to becoming unattached from his face on the right side.

Lizzy stepped behind Jane, and began making desperate motions to her upper lip. Carlo suddenly blushed, and pressed down the side of his mustache.

Jane stood very still. "Cha—" Unable to complete the name, she turned to Lizzy, who had already disappeared up the stairs to write.

"Hello, nice to meet you Jane," Carlo said in Italian.

Jane stuttered back in Italian after a moment's hesitation. It had been a while since she had heard Italian, and she was shocked to see how foreign it sounded to her now. "Nice to meet you too. Please make yourself feel welcome at home."

They sat down at the coffee table. "It is nice to see another Italian here," Carlo remarked, "I have felt quite out of place since I came here."

Jane coughed, embarrassed. "How long have you been here?"

"Two weeks."

Another long silence. "So… how are you?" Carlo asked.

"Just fine, thank you," Jane answered, her lips pursing as she did so. Her eyebrows closed together slightly.

"You are very attractive, you know," Carlos broke another awkward silence.

Jane frowned slightly and did not answer.

"You have a boyfriend?" Carlos asked, his voice suddenly quiet, as if he were afraid of the answer.

"I'm tired of men who don't keep their promises and are too afraid to tell you the truth when you really need it. There was this one guy I knew, but he turned out to be an utter disappointment."

Carlo looked astonished and ashamed at Jane's angry outburst. "I—" he began, "I am sure that he's a good guy, but he made a terrible mistake. I bet he's really regretting his decision right now. Take it from me, he's probably seconds away from begging on his knees for your forgiveness."

Jane turned her face away for a moment, as if rejecting his obvious plea for forgiveness. "Forgiveness is too late for some hurts."

And as she spoke those words in a foreign language, her heart broke all over again, and the tightening of her chest was unfortunately connected to her tear ducts. She felt a soft touch turn her face, and she bit her lip, hoping to keep her tears checked, but try as she might, she could not, and they spilled down a cheek. Carlo wiped it away with his index finger.

"I bet he'd do anything to keep you from crying again," he whispered. "He's so, so sorry for everything's he's done. And even though he doesn't deserve it at all, he still wants your forgiveness. He still wants you back, and most of all, he still loves you."

Jane closed her eyes as another wave of tears threatened to spill.

"Per favore," he whispered.

"This girl doesn't think she can handle another round of heartbreak," Jane announced, suddenly using English. Jane stood up rapidly, turning around. Carlo stood too, and grabbed Jane's wrist, turning her back to face him.

"What happens now, then?" he whispered quietly, his eyes looking so sad and vulnerable.

Jane, feeling weak at the knees, barely managed to take her wrist out of his grasp. "Nothing. Two people who might have made it somewhere in this world will be apart forever."

Carlo suddenly brought his face very close to Jane's. Jane frowned, as if that would keep her from sinking into temptation, but she did not move her face.

"Please, Jane, you don't understand what I've been through. These months without you, I felt like I'd never be happy again. I couldn't stop thinking about you. If you could have only felt half of what I have felt, then you would be rushing back to me."

Jane did not like this answer. "And if you hadn't belittled my feelings, then and now, maybe I would be. The answer is no, even if it breaks both of our hearts." She turned again, but Carlo stopped her as he suddenly leaned in and pressed his lips against hers.

Jane pulled away. "Charles, no. No, no, no. I cannot believe you are doing this to me. Maybe you should just leave." She looked down.

"Is that what you really want?"

Jane did not answer out loud, but her heart was beating faster than it had in a long time, and assent was about to burst from her lips. She kept them pursed tightly, as if that could keep all the feeling inside. It didn't. Tears spilled down her cheek. Carlo slowly wiped them away.

Jane made a quick decision. She ripped the mustache off his face, and stood on her tip-toes in order to meet his face. "Charles," Jane murmured against his mouth.

There was a giggle from the doorway.

"Shut up, Kitty!"

"You shut up!"

"My life is complete! I can die peacefully now!"

"Give them some privacy, will you?"

"Shut up, Lizzy!"

"If only I could see the rest of my daughters so happily settled!"

"Mum, it wasn't a marriage proposal!"

"It practically is!"

"Dude, they're _frenching_!"

Jane and "Carlo" jumped apart.

"Uh," Charles stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck, embarrassed. His face was scarlet with embarrassment at being discovered.

"Mom!" Jane exclaimed.

"Come on guys, have a little decency, will you?" Lizzy looked towards Jane, winking as she pulled the door shut.

Lizzy ran upstairs to finish a phone call that she had not completed.

"It worked!" she almost screamed into the phone.

On the other end, Georgiana almost fell out of her chair. She did, however, drop the phone.

"Hello?" Lizzy asked.

Georgiana rapidly redialed. "OH MY GOODNESS!" she shouted. "I'm so happy I could cry!"

"Me too!" The two girls both screamed repeatedly for almost a minute until each was so sick of the other's volume that they were almost ready to hang up.

"This is so cute and fluffy!" Georgiana exclaimed.

"Yeah, I know, right?" Lizzy paused. She could hear breathing on the other end. "Giana, stop breathing so creepily," Lizzy laughed.

"It's not me!" Georgiana protested.

On the third line, Darcy thought, _Creepy? I breathe creepily?_ "Sorry to interrupt your conversation, girls, but I'd just like to offer my congratulations to Jane and Charles. I'll be going now."

"Yeah, okay Darce. Don't listen in on the phone. It's creepy."

_Again with the creepy… _"Well, okay. Bye then."

"Oh yeah, by the way, Will, thanks for the idea of bringing 'Carlo' over!" Georgiana said.

"Wait," Lizzy interjected. "This was _Darcy's _idea?"

"Yeah," Georgiana confirmed.

"Oh." Lizzy stopped talking for a second. "Well, that was very thoughtful of you."

"Not at all, glad to be of help. Now I really do have to go. Today we are finalizing flowers for the wedding."

"Lizzy, if you have time, you should fly over here and come!" Georgiana suggested brightly.

"Uhhh," Darcy and Lizzy said simultaneously.

Interpreting Darcy's "uh" as reluctance, Lizzy declined, "Thanks, Giana, but I'd feel like I'm intruding."

Feeling compelled by politeness, Darcy said, "Oh, no no no, don't feel like you are intruding. We would be, uh, happy to see you there."

"Great! So I'll see you there?" Georgiana asked.

"Uh… maybe. I'll see if I can fly over there," Lizzy lied.

"I really hope you can come, it would be so awesome!" Georgiana said.

Darcy, meanwhile, had hung up the phone.

"Well, okay, I'll see you soon hopefully," Georgiana said brightly.

Lizzy, feeling like such a lying hypocrite, smiled weakly, and answered, "Yeah, me too."

"Bye-bye, Lizzy!"

"Goodbye, Giana."

**A/N: Hopefully I'll figure out what's going on in this story and get back to you ASAP. Let me know what you thought, please. It'll help me out. **


	21. Rendezvous

**A/N: So not too late, right? Not the best chapter ever. I know it's split into so many sections of random characters, but I'm getting ready for the next one, and I'm really looking forward to the next one :) **

Chapter 21: Rendezvous 

_To Ms. Elizabeth Bennet—_

_You are cordially invited to the 6 year reunion of Oxford, class of 2004. The reunion will be held at Oxford University on May 15__th__, 2010. We hope that you will attend, and we look forward to seeing you there. _

_Please RSVP to Kevin… etc. _

Lizzy closed the envelope and leaned back against the bedpost. She let out a sigh, and sat there for a second, still. Then she reluctantly picked up the phone, and dialed a number she had stuck to the back of the phone, not that she really needed to look at the number anymore. She had memorized it a long time ago, during her teenage years when she had no one to talk to besides her sister, and even her sister was sometimes too preoccupied with her own life.

"Hello?" a male voice asked when the phone was picked up.

"Uncle Gardiner?" Lizzy asked.

"Lizzy!" Mr. Gardiner exclaimed. "It's good to hear your voice! You know, Andrea isn't in right now, if you wanted to talk to her."

"Oh," Lizzy remarked. "Well, that's okay. How have you been?"

"I've been well, and you?"

"I've been doing okay, too. Things have been pretty crazy around here though. Did you know that Charles came back to ask for Jane back?"

"No! What happened? Don't say she took that lying bastard back."

Lizzy laughed. "He's not quite that bad. I think you caught us at a bad time, when we were all liable to exaggerate his faults. He really is quite a nice person, and Jane is so very happy now that he's back now!"

Mr. Gardiner made a disapproving noise from the back of his throat, but did not continue to berate Charles. " I suppose it is all right if she is happy with him. But if he ever hurts her again, you let me know immediately. I'll make sure to set him straight."

Lizzy laughed again. "I'll be sure to tell you. Anyway, since you're here, I was wondering if I could stay over with you and Aunt Gardiner for a week or two. Oxford's having a reunion, and I need a place to stay."

"Yeah, of course," Mr. Gardiner replied. "I haven't seen my favorite niece in forever!"

"Really?"

"Really what?"

"I'm your favorite?"

"Yes, but don't tell your sisters."

Lizzy smiled. "I won't, but thanks."

"I can't wait to see you again, Lizzy."

"Yeah, me too. Send my regards to Aunt Gardiner."

"Of course."

"Well, okay then. Bye."

"Goodbye, Lizzy."

Lizzy put down the phone for a moment, because she was not in a hurry to make the next call. Finally, gathering up the willpower to make the call, she picked up the phone again and dialed the number.

"Hello?"

"Kevin? This is Elizabeth Bennet, and I'm coming to the reunion."

"Lizzy?" he asked. "How _are_ you?"

"I'm well, and you?" Lizzy asked, banging her head against the bedpost. She had hoped that there would be no small talk.

"Great! I haven't seen you in like, forever!"

"Yeah, six years," Lizzy observed drily. It was six years that she didn't miss him at all.

"I've missed you so much! We'll have to catch up at the reunion!"

"Yup. I'm looking forward to that," Lizzy replied, thinking that this was going to be a good opportunity to make a quick escape.

"Me too! So what have you been up to since we've seen each other?" Apparently not.

"Uhm, nothing much."

"You completely disappeared off the radar! Nobody knows what happened to you!"

"Yeah, I tried to keep a low profile."

"LIZZY!" a shrill female voice screamed from downstairs. Lizzy had never been happier to receive a summons from her mother.

"Sorry, that was my mom. I have to go now."

"Aw, okay. I'll see you at the reunion then!"

"Okay, bye then."

"Bye!"

Lizzy hung up the phone before he could add in anything more, and slowly stood up, being in no rush to see what Mrs. Bennet needed this time…

* * *

"Richard!" Anne whispered, grabbing Richard as he came around the path.

He smiled. "Anne…"

"Okay, so I have this great plan. We might risk the old lady's wrath, but think about it. She's already mad at you, I'm her daughter, so she can't get too mad at me. But even if she gets mad at me, it's okay. She can't live for that long, anyway. And also, she'll have to give the inheritance to Darcy eventually, right? And if the ol' bat kicks us out of the house, Darcy would be willing to support us, right?"

Richard laughed nervously. "That sounds like a terrible plan, Anne, but go on."

"You knock me up, and then she pushes the wedding date forward, and then I announce the week before the wedding that I'm carrying the seed of your loins, and then there will be a huge scandal, and the wedding can't go on, right?"

"I agree with Richard. That sounds like a terrible plan."

Anne whipped her head around. "Darcy!"

"But," he continued, "I haven't got any better."

"So we have your blessing, then?" Richard smirked.

"Yes, I give you permission to procreate with my fiancée?" Darcy made a face, "Wow, this is so disgusting. I really did not need to know the details of your plan, Anne."

"Too much?" she grinned wickedly.

"You want to hear what I'm going to do to your fiancée?" Richard asked, an innocent smile plastered on his face.

"NO!" Darcy yelled, covering his ears, humming, and running away.

Anne and Richard burst into laughter. "He's so weird sometimes…" Anne observed.

"Sometimes?" Richard asked.

* * *

A lady with the rank of Lady Catherine de Bourgh was hardly expected to be seen at the Derby County Jail. Yet that day was a day for strange occurrences, so there she was.

She slid into the visitor's area, and took off her sunglasses, placing them carefully on the table in front of her.

"Joseph," she remarked stiffly.

"Cathy," the man sitting across from her smirked. He looked ungroomed, even for a prisoner. His hair hung in long strands around his head, and there was hardly a clean space on his face.

She sniffed angrily. "I would appreciate you not addressing me in such a casual fashion."

"It's been a long time, _Cathy_. I trust you have been well?"

"As well as someone who has been through so much can be."

He laughed coldly. "I hardly think you have the right to complain. You've lived in a life of luxury for the past 50 years, while I've been rotting away in a cell not even as big as your smallest bathroom."

"You have only yourself to blame, Joseph. There is a place for people who make wrong decisions, and you have made your way to it."

"Do you really believe that? Maybe in other circumstances, my actions would have been inexcusable, but do you really believe I am the only one at fault?"

"I knew it. I was wrong to come see someone like you. People like you are incurably criminal. There is no reasoning with you." She stood up, picking up her sunglasses.

"Have you ever thought about why you are so uncomfortable about this? Why you never talk about me? If you look inside your soul, maybe you'd find your own guilt, but you are a coward! A coward! You'd never admit to the world that you are wrong, though your mind screams it every day. I know you too well, Cathy. I know how much more you're suffering than me, despite all your wealth. Because in the end, wealth cannot save your soul."

"I think this meeting is over. I apologize for disturbing you," she said tersely, before turning her back on him.

* * *

George Wickham stood at the corner of a dark street, trying to seem as stereotypical as possible. He was clad in a mud-brown trenchcoat, with the collar flipped up to cover his neck. His head was covered by an old, beaten-up fedora, and his eyes were masked by dark sunglasses. To complete the look, he held a cigarette by his mouth.

Wickham was waiting. And any passerby might have walked a little faster at the sight of him, hoping that they could get by without getting noticed. But Wickham was watching very closely. He did notice each and every passerby, which was why he noticed the girl before she had even seen him.

He took the cigarette out of his mouth, and threw it on the ground, stepping on it with his foot to put it out. When the girl caught sight of him, she bounded up to him.

"George!" she exclaimed loudly, and more than a few people turned their heads.

"Shut up, you're loud," he growled.

The girl looked hurt.

Wickham sighed. "Sorry, I'm just trying not to attract any attention."

"It's okay, I understand." The girl leaned her face up, and Wickham sighed before planting a small peck on her lips.

She looked disappointed, but did not say anything.

"Do you have something for me?" he asked, pulling her into an alley.

"Yeah," she said, sounding very down. She reached into her purse, and pulled out a wad of bills.

"Thanks, honey." After he pocketed the money, he leaned down to give her a proper kiss.

The girl pulled away immediately. "Have you been smoking?"

He didn't answer.

"I thought I asked you to stop," she frowned.

"I know, but it's so hard to quit, you know?"

"It's okay, George, I know you can do it."

"Thanks, I'll definitely try my best," he lied.

"I'm glad," the girl smiled.

"I can't stay much longer," Wickham said.

"Why not?" She looked even more sad.

"There are people… they're looking for me," he lied again.

"Oh, well I better leave, then. I'll see you next week, then?"

"Yeah, same place," he replied, slipping a bag of white powder into her purse.

She reached up to give him one last kiss. "Make sure you do try to stop smoking."

"All right, Lydia. Will do."

**A/N: The Derby County Jail was demolished in 1929, but shhh. Let me pretend that it still exists for the sake of convenience :) **

**Let me know what you think! Please review :) You guys are so sweet, I love you all. Thanks for sticking with my inconsistencies XD Keep reading, and happy fanficcing!**


	22. A Little Princess

**A/N: I'm on fire, no? I got up at 12:00AM to write this, and I finished it up today, so be glad that I am getting inspired. It's good practice for NaNoWriMo. I'm so nervous haha. Anyone doing it this year? So the chapter itself is a little non-sequitur, but I was so excited to write it **

Chapter 22: A Little Princess

Catherine Gispard de Rielle, or Cat, as her sister called her, was barely seventeen years of age when her family's butler passed away. It was quite a blow to family, as they had all grown accustomed to the idea of Adrien being with them forever. But alas, at some age, death must be inevitable.

Catherine had grown up with Adrien in the house, and was not at all open to the idea of hiring a new butler. No one, in her opinion, could measure up to Adrien. He had been in the family so long, and knew every member's habits and foibles. There was never a need to reprimand him; he was discreet, well-mannered, and everything that could be desired in a man of his occupation.

Perhaps out of all the family members, Catherine had been the most attached to Adrien, and she was quite upset to see a new butler hired so soon after Adrien's passing. He was everything Adrien was not. He was young, inexperienced, new, and in Catherine's opinion, knew nothing of the proper reserve when speaking to young ladies of _her _rank. Besides, he was an _Englishman_. That very fact was enough to make her turn her nose up at him. Yet Adrien was also handsome, something Catherine would never have thought of her butler until the new one arrived. He may not have been reserved and quite as tactful as Adrien was, but he was most definitely charming. Anne thought so, but Catherine refused to view his "charm" as anything except impertinence.

"It's an outrage, really," Catherine complained to her sister Anne one day. She leaned back against her chaise. The sun was getting in her eyes, so she squinted slightly. She suddenly wished that she had brought a parasol out, or at least a veil. The sun would really destroy her fair skin, but she couldn't bring herself to get up. Besides, she reasoned, if the new butler was any good, he should have already brought her a parasol and be holding it over her head silently.

Anne lazily fanned her face, strands of hair flying away from her cheeks. "Oh, do cheer up, Cat. Don't be so stiff and opposed to change. He's not so bad, once you get to know him."

"I have no intention of doing so. If anything, a butler should get to know _his_ family members in order to better serve them. _I _certainly have no intention of getting to know him, and accustoming myself to _his _tastes." She sniffed, and absentmindedly slipped her left glove off.

"Cat, dear, I know you miss Adrien, but you can't take it out on Joseph! After all, I'm sure he's doing his best."

"And if 'trying' isn't enough, then I do say we should just get rid of him. He can't just do _his _best, he has to do the best."

"But Cat," Anne suddenly leaned closer to Catherine's lawn chair, "you must admit he is handsome."

Catherine rolled her eyes, "Perhaps, by _your _standards, and maybe silly girls' standards, but not to me."

"Then I shall expect only the admiration of silly girls, then," the butler said from behind.

Catherine started, and sat up straighter in her chair, and slipped her glove back on, suddenly feeling very exposed. She opened her mouth in order to reprimand him for eavesdropping, but before she could get a single word out, he had already placed a pitcher of cool water on the small table between the two chairs, and poured out two glasses of water. He then took out a large umbrella, opened it and held it over the two sisters.

Anne took the glass closer to her, and took a sip, but Catherine refused to acknowledge Joseph's presence, other than through her stiff posture, and the angry set of her pointed, aristocratic jaw. She turned to the side, expecting to find her book, which she had been reading earlier. Finding nothing, she turned back in disappointment, only to find the book on her other side, held by a white-gloved hand, attached to the arm of Joseph.

Catherine frowned.

"I bet pardon, my lady, but I suppose this is what you were looking for?" Joseph smiled charmingly.

She snatched the book back from him, and stood up quickly, returning back to the house.

Over the next few months, Joseph worked hard to curry Catherine's favor, as she remained the only family member unsatisfied by his presence. Anne and Madame Gispard de Rielle had been won over quite early by his good looks, and irresistible charm, which could never fail to bring a small smile to the corner of their mouths. Monsieur Gispard de Rielle was soon convinced that this new young (and sprite, agile, quick) butler was well worth the initial time spent reminded him of the family's habits.

Catherine remained resistant to the new employee, and despite Joseph's best efforts, he never failed to extract any sign of approval from her.

It was then that Joseph seemed to give up, and he began ignoring Catherine. Of course, Catherine could not stand this. How dare a mere common butler refuse to pay attention to her? She became filled with rage. She couldn't stop thinking of this insufferable butler.

Not two weeks passed before she confronted him about it.

"You, why are you doing this?" she demanded, passing him in a corridor.

"Doing what?" he smiled innocently.

"Ignoring me!" Catherine was dangerously close to a tantrum.

"It appears you didn't want my attention, my lady, so I withheld it. I apologize if I have angered you," he bowed formally, yet the smirk on his face did not make him look sorry at all.

"That was disrespectful and irresponsible, and ridiculous," Catherine tried to regain her composure after a moment of struggling for words.

He leaned in, and Catherine nearly fell over with astonishment, thinking he was about to kiss her, but he was merely pushing his elbow against the wall, squeezing Catherine against the wall in order to maintain a comfortable distance.

"Who is the one being ridiculous here?" he demanded, his voice no longer its default, pleasant tone.

"You have no right to harass me like this. It's quite improper!" Catherine protested.

"Do I? You've skated around the subject for a while now. Admit it, you like me, but you hate yourself for it. You're not supposed to like your Adrien's successor, nor are you in any position to be making eyes at the butler of your house. And then you harass _me_ because of it. There is a 'proper' way to treat another human being, and frankly, you've only shown yourself to have no class at all, despite your social rank and wealth."

Catherine looked appalled, yet a faint rose tinge flowered in her cheeks. "Making ey—"

"Don't think I haven't seen you," he lowered his voice, "you stare at me all the time, and it's not always with disapproval, either." He suddenly moved his arm away from the wall, and stood up straight. "Now if you'll excuse me, my lady," he smiled politely with a bow, "I'll get back to my work."

Catherine stayed frozen where he had left her. He had been so close to her. She turned her head slightly. His arm had been right next to her head, right in the middle of the wallpaper pattern. She slowly peeled herself off the wall and ran back to her room, shutting the door quickly lest he find her again and confuse her emotions.

The next eleven days were agony. Catherine was left not knowing what the butler was thinking. He continued acting politely to her, but never spoke to her when they were alone.

One day, he was lighting the fire in her room, silently, when Catherine suddenly spoke.

"You!"

He didn't turn around.

"Look at me!"

He did so, but did not say anything.

After a long silence, Catherine lowered her gaze and muttered, "I'm sorry."

Finally, he spoke. "I don't need your pity. Someone like you who thinks she is higher than any other human on this planet, I don't need friends like that. I have real friends."

He turned his attention back to the fireplace. When he was about to exit, Catherine suddenly stood and ran up to him, pressing an embroidered handkerchief into his hand. He looked back at her, and for the first time since he had stepped inside the house, he smiled what seemed to be a genuine smile before leaving the room.

Catherine sat back on her bed and thought about it. That smile was different from anything she had ever seen. It hadn't been forced like all his other ones before. It wasn't a big smile, either. In fact, it looked kind of sad, as well as happy. She was so confused. What did it really mean?

Three days later, she got her answer. Retiring for bed, she found a note on her pillow. _"Down the window, 11:00PM."_ She glanced at the time, and noted that it was almost at the hour. She glanced quickly down at her chemise, and blushed at the thought of being seen in it, especially by—

She had almost thought about him in terms of his job. He didn't like that, she knew. At least she had stopped herself. She threw on a robe over her shift, and ran to the window. It was slightly ajar, and she peered downwards into the darkness.

There was a figure at the bottom. "Jump!" it whispered.

Catherine hesitated, but feeling an adrenaline rush from the sheer mystery and secrecy of the entire affair, she did it, and he caught her.

She smiled, and he smiled that dazzling smile back at her, and she felt a little dizzy, but she attributed that to the height of the fall.

"Put me down," she said.

"You're not wearing any shoes," he pointed out.

"That's fine," she replied, finding the feeling of not caring exhilarating.

"I wouldn't want to be responsible for calluses," he said, carrying her away.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"It's a surprise," he smiled again, and she felt even more dizzy. "Close your eyes," he whispered into her ear, and she shut them willingly, trusting herself completely to him.

A few minutes later, he set her down, and feeling the seat underneath her to be unstable, she opened her eyes, to discover that she was sitting in a boat on the family lake. Joseph pushed off shore, and jumped in after her. From the bottom of the small rowboat, he retrieved two oars, and carefully slid them into place, and paddled towards the middle of the lake. The moon was bright, but his face was hidden in shadow, but Catherine could tell he was smiling.

"It's beautiful," she whispered, and he nodded, humming a tune under his breath. Catherine closed her eyes, feeling at peace, and leaned her hands back, enjoying the cool night air on her exposed cheeks.

Suddenly, Catherine noticed that they had stopped rowing. She opened her eyes again, and saw that he had taken out a basket, and began unpacking it. It contained a bottle of wine, and two glasses, which he tipped right side up and set on a seat. He poured with a steady hand, and filled each glass half full.

"What should we toast to?" Catherine asked, taking one of the glasses.

"To your father's health, your family's wealth, and your happiness," Joseph proclaimed grandly, and they clinked glasses. Catherine, being over eager, accidentally sloshed some of it onto her skirt, but it didn't really matter to her. It was the first time in several years that she had been able to not care about small details like that…

**A/N: Earlier chapters, many of you reviewed, telling me how you were surprised to find that Lady Catherine had a heart. Well here's a backstory, and you'll find out more later. Keep tuned! **

**By the way, sorry for the lateness of this chapter. I actually had this written a few days after the last, but Em's been having problems emailing me. Stupid Gmail. So anyways… Here it is! And NaNoWriMo is coming up, so I'll probably donate some words from that over here. Or I may be too stressed. Expect the extremes, readers. Don't forget to leave me nice reviews **


	23. Where You Belong

**A/N: Why is it so much easier to write 1667 words of FF than a novel?**

Chapter 23: Where You Belong 

Seventeen-year-old Catherine was young, foolish, naïve, and easily mislead. At least that was what eighteen-year-old Catherine de Bourgh thought. Eighteen-year-old Catherine was filled with a sense of superiority that was far beyond anything her seventeen-year-old self had felt. Those rare smiles became non-existent. After all, what was there to smile about when our father was murdered, and your family robbed, all by the person you thought you could trust in a world of scheming and intrigue.

Lady Catherine de Bourgh did not know what had possessed her to lose all sense of propriety only a year ago, but the perpetrator was locked safely behind bars, and all he could do to hurt anyone was through the memory of his deceit and betrayal. But what she tried to do was look back in distaste, which is also what 64-year-old Catherine de Bourgh attempted to do after she left the Derby County Jail. People of her rank had limitations on whom they should choose to associate with, and 46 years of remembering who she was and what she was meant to do was enough to define those boundaries, which is why she chose to ignore Collins when he came knocking on her door, ignorant of the news he brought…

* * *

"You're squishing me, Kitty!"

"Shut up, you're squishing _me_! You're so fat!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Girls, just shut up," came the bored voice of Mr. Bennet. Lizzy smiled in her seat next to her father. Fortunately, being the person being sent to the airport, she could claim shotgun, but not without many complaints from Lydia and Kitty.

Despite the noise in the car, and the headache she could feel coming on, Lizzy was glad that her family was accompanying her to the airport. After all, it really is the people who love you the most who will see you to the airport, and it was lovely to think that there were so many people who loved her despite their frequent arguments.

"You really are too cruel sometimes, dear," Mrs. Bennet said rather distractedly, her attention on Lizzy's luggage.

"Lizzy, dear, are you sure you brought an appropriate dress? You need to show off that body. Hopefully, you'll find a British man."

"Oooh, British! I love their accents," Lydia squealed.

"Yeah, they're so hot," Kitty shrieked.

"See? Why can't you adopt your sisters' attitudes?" Mrs. Bennet asked.

Mary coughed, "Sluts."

Lydia turned to glare at her older sister, but her interest did not hold, and she soon turned away to begin chattering away to nobody in particular about the virtues of British men and the latest fashions.

Lizzy tuned out the oh so droll discussions of her younger sisters and mother. Instead, she focused on her conversation with her father and her eldest sister, who so far had remained silent in the car, speaking even less than Mary had.

"I'll miss you guys so much," Lizzy told them.

"We'll miss you too, Lizzy," Jane smiled. "I hope you have a great time."

"Thanks. I hope you and Charles work out all your issues. I know you guys will be very happy together."

"I second that notion," Mr. Bennet broke in.

Jane blushed. "Thanks. I think it'll work out this time. He explained it to me, and I think that it is partly my fault."

Lizzy frowned. "Don't even say that, Janey. It's not your fault at all. Don't forget how deeply you were hurt by him. Even though he was probably hurt too, don't forget that he precipitated the whole thing. In any case, I think he really is very sorry, and maybe we should simply put it behind us. There were probably many things involved, and he probably is not entirely to blame. But never, ever blame yourself."

Jane looked out the window.

"Don't worry about me, Lizzy-bear. Just enjoy your trip. Everything will work out perfectly, I think."

"She's right, dear. I think that this time things really will work out well. You deserve a vacation. Have some fun, get some work done, and come back refreshed. I'm sure you have deadlines to meet, too."

Lizzy grumbled for a moment before nodding. "You're right."

The rest of the car ride passed without event. After a raucous goodbye with many tearful hugs (mostly from Mrs. Bennet), Lizzy grabbed her suitcases, and headed off to security, blowing kisses to her sisters, while they waved back at her. Her father sent her off with a proud smile and a dignified nod, and that was enough. Lizzy was sent off with plenty of love to carry her through her absence from her family.

* * *

After a very long plane flight, and a tiring taxi ride, Lizzy arrived at the site of her alma mater. In the taxi, she had pressed her face against the glass, glad to be in the country she had missed more than she knew. She was quite sure that the cabbie had taken her for a tourist, with her eyes wide with fascination, and her painfully American accent. It was strange hearing the language she was so familiar with, using it in her writing, spoken so differently.

She realized then exactly how much she missed all of the friends she had made at Oxford, all of the people she had met who had changed her life. Well, most of them anyway.

Lizzy frowned as Kevin rushed to embrace her. He planted two kisses on either side of her face, rather taking liberties with her.

"So great to see you," he exclaimed.

"Yeah, you too," she replied curtly, not wanting to give him another opportunity to make conversation.

"Damn," he whistled, "you still look just as good as you did when I saw you last!"

Before Lizzy had the chance to formulate a response, she felt an arm link with hers. "Sorry to intrude, but Emma and I are going to have to steal Lizzy!"

Lizzy turned to see Alice standing next to her.

"Alice!" Lizzy exclaimed, as Alice dragged her away. When they were out of earshot, Lizzy grinned, "Thanks."

Alice rolled her eyes. "No need to thank us."

"He's been talking about you nonstop, how the years of separation have made you long for his embrace." Lizzy smiled at the newcomer.

"Great to see you too, Em."

Emma grinned. "I think he's been telling everyone how he's been 'saving himself' for you."

Lizzy looked momentarily mortified by this revelation, and Alice and Emma burst into peals of giggles at her expression.

"It's okay. We're good at keeping people away."

"Experts, you could say," Emma snickered.

"I'm so glad that you guys are here," Lizzy admitted. "How have you both been?"

"Never been better," Alice answered brightly.

Lizzy noticed the ring on Emma's hand, and asked her about it.

"Oh, I got married two years ago."

"Oooh, who is he, what's his name, occupation, what does he look like?" the words came tumbling out of Lizzy's mouth before she could stop them.

Emma blushed prettily. "His name is Charles, and he's a lawyer. He—"

"He's dreamy," Alice broke in. "Like, mega-dreamy, mind-blowingly _hot_."

Lizzy snickered. "I'm glad to hear it," is what she said to her friend. But something felt uncomfortable, and she could not pinpoint what it was exactly. To distract herself from the discomfort, she rapidly said, "Jane's boyfriend is also named Charles."

"What a small world," Alice grinned.

Emma elbowed Alice. "Tell her… tell her!"

It was Alice's turn to blush. "Okay, fine. I'm going out with Jim now."

Lizzy's jaw dropped at this revelation. "Jim _Watley_?"

Alice blushed even harder.

"I knew something was going on between you two! I so called this, didn't I?" she glanced at Emma.

"I did too, you know. I wouldn't discredit my _continued _efforts to bring certain lovebirds together."

"Well, it worked, okay, so y'all can shut up about it," Alice scowled, trying to hide a smile.

"So… _Lizzy,_ what about you? What news hast thou brought us?"

"None whatsoever."

"Really?"

"I don't believe you."

"Liar."

"Denier."

"No, guys, really! I have nothing to tell you."

"Now that is a problem."

"We can fix that, you know."

"Yeah, we have lots of good idea—"

"Ahaha… NO," Lizzy said firmly. "I've seen your 'ideas' and I know how horrific they can get. That is my final answer. I refuse to become the victim of one of your elaborate and highly-embarrassing schemes."

Emma and Alice both began pouting, but Lizzy persisted in her determination to refuse their "help."

"So no gossip?" Alice asked, disappointed.

"Nope," Lizzy smiled. "Sorry to disappoint, ladies."

"_Speaking _of gossip, our gossip column's the best part of our magazine. It draws in so many readers. I can't believe that something that was simply a harmless hobby during school became our careers," Emma laughed.

"Well, you two are certainly doing a great job with it. I'm glad to see you guys make so much progress. Your articles are so refreshing to read," Lizzy smiled.

"Let's not mention your books, shall we? The brilliant novelist complimenting humble little _us_?" Alice made a gesture of mock surprise. "Oh my, Em, I think I'm about to faint from being so flattered."

"Shut up," Lizzy laughed.

"What happened with your editor?" Emma wanted to know. "I heard you switched editors because he swindled you!"

"What a git," Alice remarked aimlessly.

"Yeah, he was kind of a git, but now he's married to my best mate, which is weird," Lizzy replied.

"_Best _mate?" Alice asked. "I don't recall ever getting married to any 'Collins,' what about you, Emsters?"

"No," Emma replied, eyes wide, "I don't recall any such occurrence! My, she really must be getting confused. All that stress…"

"Oh stop it, you two. Don't feel too flattered just because I said I liked your articles," Lizzy admonished with a stern glance at the two of them.

They both snickered. Before Lizzy could make another biting retort, her phone rang. She glanced at the number. It was Anne.

"Sorry, guys, I have to get this."

"Oooh, a boyfriend, perhaps?" Emma suggested.

Lizzy raised an eyebrow. "Really? Me? You know me."

"Still, we like to entertain the possibility."

"Hello?" Lizzy answered her phone as soon as she was outside.

"I have some information for you," Anne said in what appeared to be her "mysterious voice." It was slightly lower, as if she were trying to disguise her identity.

"What is it, Anne?" Lizzy asked.

"Wait, how did you know it was me? Damnit. The number for disguising your number is *67, isn't it? Stupid United States…"

Lizzy grinned. "What is it? It sounds mysterious."

"Yeah, that's what I was going for. So… Plan: Get-Myself-Knocked-Up-To-Avoid-An-Unpleasant-Marriage is not working apparently."

"Oh really? And I have to do with that why?" Lizzy suddenly felt very suspicious. Anne wasn't going to ask her to do something with… _Darcy_?

"I need your help."

"No."

"You haven't even heard my idea yet! And you haven't given it any thought yet!"

"Oh, sorry. Let me think about that. Hmm…. No."

"Well I'm telling you my plan anyway. So you're a writer, right? I can give you some dirt on Mother and you could fashion some sort of scandal, right? And get it published?"

"I don't write that kind of—" Then as Emma and Alice waved to her through a window, Lizzy realized who _did _write that kind of stuff. "Yeah, I have the perfect solution for you."

Anne laughed. "Thank so much, dear. Okay, so here's the deal…"

The rest of the reunion consisted of Lizzy saying hello to the people she hadn't seen in a while, though she never got to say hello to the person she _really _wanted to see. In fact, it was rather a depressing thought that she would never have a real reunion with _that _person.

Nevertheless, between her thoughts of her college years and avoiding Kevin quite skillfully, Lizzy managed to have fun. She didn't drink too much, she didn't say anything embarrassing, and she didn't make any social faux pas. All in all, it was a very average reunion. And, she managed to accomplish Anne's mission as well.

"Hey Emma," Lizzy addressed her friend as she passed by her. "Would you be willing to dish the dirt on a rich, aristocratic socialite?"

"Would I ever!" she exclaimed. "Excuse me," she said to Lizzy. "Alice!" she yelled, running towards her friend.

Lizzy smiled as she shook her head in amusement. "They never change, do they?" she muttered to herself.

* * *

Nathan Collins was practically breathless from anticipation. This was an emergency! This couldn't wait! Lady Catherine de Bourgh, though she may have better things to do, had to come out and see this new development! Finding that knocking incessantly did nothing to make her respond, he commenced calling both her home phone and cell phone, in case one of them was not working. Finally, finally, he reached her.

"What do you want? I haven't got time to waste on you," Lady Catherine snapped as soon as she answered the phone.

"Thank goodness," he began, but cut himself off. He was wasting time. "There's something very important that you need to see. Can you come outside?"

"What is it this time?" she drawled slowly.

"Maybe you'd better come outside."

Lady Catherine reluctantly got up and opened the door. "This better be good."

"Yes it is—I mean, no actually it isn't, but—" he squeaked as she snatched the magazine from his hands. It was already flipped to the article. _The _offending article.

Lady de Bourgh did a double take at the headline, but proceeded to skim through the article.

"Rubbish!" she exclaimed, throwing it back into Collins's face after she had finished perusing it.

"Yes, of course, as you say," Collins replied subserviently.

Lady Catherine proceeded to stalk back inside, slam the door. Then she immediately picked up the phone and dialed her nephew.

* * *

As the party began winding to an end, Lizzy moved quickly, saying goodbye to her friends, and making a little more small talk to acquaintances, for "old time's sake." Then, before Kevin could get anywhere near her, she ran out of the building into the Gardiners' waiting car.

"Aunt! Uncle!" Lizzy exclaimed as soon as she got into the car. "I've missed you so much! How have you been?"

"It is a pleasure to see you again, Lizzy. I'm so glad that you could come and visit," Mrs. Gardiner smiled at her favorite niece.

"Me too," Lizzy replied. "It's really been too long, and I do miss England. It nice seeing old faces again."

"Old?" Mr. Gardiner inquired playfully, "I didn't I look that ripe!"

"Oh shush," Lizzy admonished, "you know what I mean."

Mrs. Gardiner laughed. "Don't tease the poor girl, she only just got into the car!"

And after a substantial amount of inquiries the Bennet family and how they were doing, they finally reached the hotel. Lizzy, blinking at the sudden brightness asked to go up first, so Mr. Gardiner handed her the key, and she stumbled up the stairs, taking only a small messenger bag with her as luggage.

The white, crisp sheets looked inviting as she stepped into the room. She barely managed to take off her glasses before she plopped down onto the bed and fell asleep.

When she woke, it was morning, and she rubbed her eyes before glancing at the alarm clock. She was alarmed to discover that it was 1:24 PM. She had slept nearly twelve hours! But strangely, she still felt a little tired, a little exhausted from the events of the week. She glanced out the window. It was so great to be back in England. She had truly missed it, and they were like two long-separated friends meeting again, slightly awkward, yet with all their original warmth.

She stood by the window, her hand grazing the gossamer curtain hanging over the right side of the window. It was so good to be back…

There was a knock at the door, and she turned to the door, and hurriedly opened it.

"I got you some breakfast, love," Aunt Gardiner smiled at her niece. "I thought you would be hungry."

Lizzy grinned. "Why are you so perfect?"

"For you, anyone is perfect," her aunt radiantly.

"Ha, so sweet, but such a liar, you."

"Seriously, I mean it! You're so cute everyone should be falling head over heels for you."

"Haha," Lizzy laughed drily. "Who told you about Kevin?"

"Kevin?" Aunt Gardiner asked, a genuinely surprised expression on her face.

"Uhh—he's nobody," Lizzy tried weakly.

"Yeah… sure. And you say you were an English major?"

"Shh, don't be so mean," Lizzy protested. "He's just this super annoying guy at the reunion. He's been after me for, like, forever. It's just really embarrassing and horrible. I can't get him to go away, you know?"

Aunt Gardiner walked into the room and sat down on the bed. Lizzy followed, and bit into her breakfast croissant while Mrs. Gardiner spoke.

"That was a bit like your uncle when we were younger. How he would keep on," she sighed happily at old memories.

"Yeah, but you don't know Kevin. Seriously, if Kevin were like Uncle Gardiner, I would have no issues with a relationship, but—"

"What?" Mr., Gardiner had just walked into the room.

Lizzy blushed scarlet at her words being taken out of context.

"Why thank you, Lizzy, how very flattering," he laughed at her discomfort. "It's okay, everyone eventually falls prey to my charms." He winked while flicking his eyes over to his wife.

"Charms, indeed. I would advise you to rethink and remember the _pity_ that I showed towards—"

"Children, children, let's not argue about the details. The important thing is that you are together now," Lizzy remarked.

"That's true, see how responsible our little Lizzy is? Now why can't you be—"

"Well it's really your—"

"Again," Lizzy broke in. "We are all adults here."

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner grinned. "I can't believe that you are the responsible one here, absolutely mindboggling, it is," Mr. Gardiner commented.

"Yes, well _someone _has to take responsibility, and if you two won't take up the mantle, I really have no choice."

"Ooh, way to go Lizzy, having no choice, yet helping us anyway, real noble of you," Mrs. Gardiner teased.

"You know you love me," Lizzy said cockily.

"Only because we've told you multiple times," Mr. Gardiner pointed out.

"In any case, let's not argue about the details," Mrs. Gardiner tried to make amends.

Lizzy suddenly realized that she missed this verbal sparring very much, and the last time she had come even _remotely_ close to this kind of discussion was, admittedly, with none other than Fitzwilliam Darcy, though those arguments hardly ended well.

"So… where are we going today?" Lizzy asked brightly.

"Let's go to Derbyshire!" Mrs. Gardiner exclaimed. "I haven't been there since I was a little girl, and I think it would be a good experience for you. You've only ever been in urban England. You should see what it's like in the countryside. It really is beautiful, and there are plenty of enormous estates there. Besides, it's fun to see where rich people live, right?"

Lizzy grinned. "Do I detect a hint of jealousy here?"

"You know, if I had married someone rich, I would have ended up with one of those palatial homes," Mrs. Gardiner commented with a sidelong glance at her husband, who scowled accordingly, much to both Lizzy's and her aunt's amusement.

"Just be happy with what you have," he pointed out. "Once you get too reaching, you'll end up like one of those people in fables, like the—the—the Fisherman's Wife."

"Thank goodness I'm not a fisherman's wife, though my position is only slightly better."

"I sometimes wonder I married someone who complains this much," Mr. Gardiner rolled his eyes.

"It's 'cause you _love _me, right?" Mrs. Gardiner grinned, and Lizzy gagged behind her aunt's head, much to her _uncle's_ amusement. At the same time Lizzy put on a happy face for her uncle, she felt jealous of her aunt and uncle's relationship. Though Lizzy had never really outwardly shown her desire for a robust romantic relationship, the truth was, after Charlotte's wedding, she was beginning to feel her own age. And though she was still young, it felt like the end of the world to her that she would be turning thirty very, very soon.

And it just felt like _so _much pressure, from her mother especially, and from everyone else to be in a relationship. After all, thinking about it, Lizzy really hadn't dated that much, and her single status had oftentimes labeled her as a lesbian by people who didn't know her, yet made judgments on her anyway.

It frustrated her that people would whisper about her behind her back, and seeing her friends in such happy relationships made her feel even more anger towards the one person who had inhibited her happiness for a very long time (she told herself that he had ceased having an effect on her a while ago, though she was apt to lie to herself).

What was wrong with her that would make real relationships _impossible_? However, before her mind was able to wander away too far, she discovered that someone was talking to her. Her mind snapped back to attention.

"Lizzy?"

"Yeah?"

"Should we go?"

Lizzy glanced at the clock. "Yeah, we should probably get going." She sighed as she grabbed her toothbrush and hairbrush from the bathroom sink and put it back into her luggage.

She glanced around the room, but she hadn't unpacked anything else. Mr. Gardiner took her suitcase, and Lizzy smiled gratefully at him. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," he winked.

They got into the car, and Mr. Gardiner began driving. Mrs. Gardiner wanted to catch up with Lizzy.

"How's your book going?"

Lizzy groaned. "Very, very slowly. You wouldn't believe how hard it is to write with everything going on."

Mrs. Gardiner laughed. "Lizzy, you always think you're the only one with troubles. Can't you at least consider that my years of seniority give me way more headaches than you, at your tender age, have experienced?"

"No," Lizzy answered flatly, trying to keep a straight face.

"I think you just want me to feel sorry for you."

"Yeah, I kind of do…"

"Aw, poor Lizzy. She has to work so hard, and suffer through so much. It's a wonder how she became the genius she is now!" Mrs. Gardiner teased patronizingly.

"Thank you. Finally, someone understands! No, but seriously, it's really been tiring with all that's gone on with Jane."

"I heard she got back together with Charles? I don't know if I respect her for going back to him so quickly like that."

"I think it's fine. They both really love each other, and I think it wasn't _entirely_ Charles's fault, to be honest. Sure, he did play a part in it¸ but I think I can forgive him for what _he _did. In any case, they're both happy now."

"Well, I guess it's fine in that case, but she really should have more self-respect. And you, Lizzy? Anything interesting, hmm?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me this," she muttered. Out loud, she said, "No, not really."

"I find that hard to believe, dearest. Tell me about your drama."

"There's really no drama!"  
"Your mother told me you got proposed to."

"Okay, first of all, that wasn't even important enough for me to mention—"

"Not important enough—"

"—and _second_, that was a long time ago. I had _forgotten _the unpleasant memory until you so kindly reminded me."

"Now, Lizzy, who was this dashing young man," Mr. Gardiner broke in suddenly, not taking his eyes off the road.

"You know my editor?"

"No, you're kidding, Jane's—"

"Oh, no. My old one, remember him?"

"NO! Are you serious? He proposed to you? How did this even happen? Were you guys dating or something?"

Now it was Lizzy's turn to object violently. "Of course not! How could you even think that? I may be single, but I am most certainly not _desperate_, and definitely not desperate enough for _that _to happen." Suddenly, Lizzy realized whom she was speaking of. Was she calling Charlotte desperate? Was she wrong to be so judgmental of her friend, who had only wanted happiness? Lizzy felt ashamed of herself for being such a hypocrite, but before she could berate herself, Mrs. Gardiner broke in.

"Okay, I see why you didn't want to tell me now. Anyone else I should know about?"

"Eh, not really. Everyone seems like they're getting married. Charlotte got married to Collins, incidentally. Charles and Jane have bedroom eyes all the time. They're gonna get hitched anytime soon, and Darcy and Anne are getting married."

"I thought they were cousins!" Mrs. Gardiner exclaimed.

"They are! And they really don't want to get married. Anne obviously already has a significant other, and doesn't want to get married to Darcy. Darcy doesn't want to force her into anything, but he's mostly indifferent to the match."

"Oho, so humble, I see," Mrs. Gardiner smirked.

"What do you mean?"

"Come on, Lizzy. He's your ex, and he's been after you this _whole _time. Do you seriously think that he's not still in love with you?"

Lizzy laughed. "Come on, I seriously doubt it. The way he's been acting, he definitely doesn't like me at all."

Mrs. Gardiner did not make any reply to this, but asked instead, "How do you feel about him?"

There was silence for a moment, a silence so expansive that Mrs. Gardiner was almost going to tell Lizzy to forget she had asked the question. But Lizzy responded.

"Actually, not as bad as I used to think of him. I used to think he was a monster, but things change, and you find out things you didn't know before, and some things can really change your perspective, you know? But there are still so many things that I can't forgive him for."

"So you can forgive Charles, but not him?"

"Yes," Lizzy replied with no hesitation.

"Interesting… Looks like someone wants to be angry at someone else, who seems to be marrying someone else… interesting."

"Urgh, would you _stop _trying to analyze me? Not everything I say or do has a meaning. You're just like Jane."

"So I am not _alone_ in my theories?"

"Yeah, in your _conspiracy_, ridiculous theories."

Mrs. Gardiner rolled her eyes. "You are so dramatic. Oh, by the way, we're visiting Pemberly."

"No!"

Unfortunately, the doors were locked with the child-safety lock, and Lizzy, as much as she wished to, could not jump out of the car and roll out into the highway to escape her fate.

**A/N: So I was in NYC again this weekend :) Gotta love the smelly city :) Anyways, would love it if you guys reviewed and let me know what you think. I'm doing pretty well on my novel. I'm ahead with my wordcount right now, so that's awesome powsome. Just to let you know, the individual parts of the story are not in order, i.e. Collin/Bourgh is not happening at the same time Lizzy's story is. Just to prevent confusion. The call actually takes place a bit AFTERWARDS. Just a heads up. **

**And yes, em38 and I make a cameo appearance here hehe. We look forward to our gossip article :) **


	24. Cats and Bags

**A/N: To clarify something, a lot of people wrote telling me it was interesting that Lady Cat "has a heart." I would like to clarify and say that she "**_**had**_** a heart," and I intentionally made her waver a bit, though she does revert to her old ways. But at least you know why she does what she does. I've always thought that Lady Catherine doesn't deserve real redemption, while Anne does. Her character is so flat in P/P that you can't really hate her, which is why I don't make her so unlikeable here. **

Chapter 24: Cats and Bags

Lizzy pressed her nose against the glass as Mr. Gardiner swung the car into a parking space of the Lemontree Inn, somewhere in the middle of the English countryside. She sighed a heavy sigh.

"Cheer up, Lizzy. We're almost to Derbyshire."

"Yes, because that's exactly what I was worried about, not going fast enough," she grumbled.

Mrs. Gardiner grinned. "I'm glad we see eye to eye on the matter, then."

"Why are you so opposed to the idea of going to Pemberley?" Mr. Gardiner asked curiously, swinging his jacket over his shoulders before he slammed the door of the car closed.

"It's not the idea I'm opposed to," Lizzy clarified, nor is it the estate itself. My objection lies with the _occupants_ of the house."

"What problem could lie with Georgiana? I thought you were very good friends with her. Don't tell me that something happened between the two of you," Mrs. Gardiner said innocently.

Lizzy rolled her eyes. "You _know_ what I mean, Aunt, and probably even better than my mother ever knew, or ever will know. Having been my confidante for so long, don't try playing dumb now. It's just silly."

At her niece's words, Mrs. Gardiner sobered up a little, sitting a little straighter in her seat. "Well, I understand that you have a past with him, but that was a very long time ago, Lizzy. Things change, people change, and I think all of you are moving on very, very quickly. You know, time flies as you get older, and it seems like you were a little girl not too long ago."

"Yeah, well, in case you haven't noticed, it was a _very _long time ago."

"So things have changed," Mr. Gardiner pointed out.

Lizzy said nothing.

"I say, don't worry so much about what happened in the past. Just let things be as they are right now, and right now he's getting married, and you can simply forget you two ever had anything," Mr. Gardiner suggested.

"We didn't have anything!" Lizzy exclaimed.

"There you go," Mr. Gardiner said.

But especially after a class reunion, Lizzy could not help but think about the past, and remember all the reasons she had ever cited for hating Fitzwilliam Darcy. First and foremost, he was a prick, and that hadn't really changed, so it was kind of valid still. Second, she hated him because of what she thought he had done to Wickham, but that point was now moot. Third, she had hated him because of what she thought he had done to Elise, but that too was no longer applicable. Fourth, she hated him because he ruined Jane's relationship with Charles, and that was still kind of relevant, but he _had_ fixed the matter rather successfully, and now they were happier than ever. Fifth, she hated him because he was ruining Anne's happiness, and that was still going on, even though she was stepping in to rectify that situation.

Out of those five reasons, only one, or maybe two, needed addressing. Besides, all of her real complaints were rather recent, and it had been a while since she'd spoken to him—it was that one call with Georgiana in which he eavesdropped, if that can be called a conversation. It must have been even longer since she had _actually_ spoken to him, or seen him, not that she wanted to. That fact, she was a hundred percent sure of. She _did _not want to see him, and if she felt anything at all towards the prospect of going to Pemberley, it should strictly be her anticipation of seeing Georgiana, or the property, which she had heard many good things about.

She certainly wasn't going to Pemberly to see _him_, not when he was preparing for a faux wedding, and not when she didn't even want to talk to him.

"Besides, if I remember correctly, you two had good chemistry—"

"We ar—" Lizzy interrupted, but Mrs. Gardiner held up a hand to silence her niece's protest.

"Listen first, then tell me that you disagree. You can't deny that the two of you had a very good dynamic and were a very good match. You are very matched in intellect, and though you claim that he is a snob, if you are truly introspective, you shall find that you are just as bad as he is."

Lizzy looked like she was about to argue again, so Mrs. Gardiner rushed to her next thought. "I know that a lot of your dislike for him stemmed from misconceptions, misunderstandings, and the fact that your relationship with him was not really 'a relationship,' and I'm not telling you to renew it, at least the same one.

"I think that things would be better if you two were friends. He obviously doesn't want to lose your company, and I think it would do you some good to have someone to verbally spar with. Your father's getting older, and he's getting more and more exhausted trying to win arguments. You need a platonic friend who's your own age." Mrs. Gardiner paused because Lizzy had been surprised into silence.

A moment passed before Lizzy made a response. "You make a good point, and I'll consider everything you've said. I think actually that it might be easy to be friends, if it were at all possible to forget about our past."

"I think that you'll find that a very long time ago, you might have been very young and very stupid, and things have changed, and you've matured. I think you'll be able to handle it," Mrs. Gardiner reassured as all three passed through the inn's revolving door.

"Evidently some people haven't changed at all," Lizzy muttered, thinking of Kevin.

Mr. Gardiner smirked. "It's because you're so charming, my dear Lizzy. You just can't help attracting the men like flies to honey." With that said, he went to the front desk to check them into their rooms.

"I would hardly call them men," she grumbled, realizing that the people she had all been "involved" with had been swine: Wickham, Collins, Kevin, and most of all Darcy. So maybe he wasn't as "swinish" as she had supposed, especially during her high school and college years, but he still wasn't the belle of any ball.

"Ah, you are a hard woman to please," Mrs. Gardiner commented, smiling.

Lizzy scowled. "You know whom I mean."

Mrs. Gardiner looked up thoughtfully. "You know, though I did not exactly approve of you and Wickham, I still find it amazing that such a young man whom I had been acquainted with in Derbyshire could turn out to be so different from what we thought."

Lizzy nodded. "I could probably understand his mercenary nature, but for what he did to Darcy? That isn't even almost criminal. It _is _criminal. For Darcy to not keep it quiet for so long, and allow Wickham to spread his lies. That's actually pretty damn noble, especially considering it's Darcy."

"He probably wanted to keep it quiet, too," Mrs. Gardiner said thoughtfully. "I for sure wouldn't want that getting out to the public. I don't think Darcy is that vindictive anyways. He probably wanted to just let Wickham off without causing too much of a fuss."

"That's true…" Lizzy murmured, "but it was still pretty magnanimous of him."

"Or maybe you simply had lower expectations for him, and those were not difficult to leap over in any case. He has greatly exceeded your expectation. Therefore, you are impressed by what is merely his normal behavior."

Lizzy was reluctant to accept Mrs. Gardiner's premise, because of her stubbornness in adhering to the idea that he was a monster. But if she were to truly think about it objectively, there was no doubt that she would come to the same conclusion her aunt had.

"Come on," Mr. Gardiner interrupted their conversation. "Let's go to dinner now."

"Yes, let's," Mrs. Gardiner looped her arm around Lizzy's, and hauling their luggage behind them, they set off towards the hotel restaurant.

At the dinner table, they spoke no more of Darcy, but rather of lighter topics that could offend no one, except perhaps with the exception of politics, where they developed a heated argument, that even involved the waiter who was barely passing by when he suddenly heard a shocking argument being made. He rapidly joined into the conversation, and it deteriorated into a shouting match between the dogmatic Mr. Gardiner and the young waiter.

Mr. Gardiner made the argument that the waiter was young, and knew nothing about politics. He probably hadn't even been alive during Reagan!

The waiter made the argument that Mr. Gardiner was too old, and his knowledge wasn't up to date, and he probably had no idea about how things had changed, and that innovation was the only key to political stability. The world was going to pieces, and the only way they could fix it was through the young people of the nation.

Mr. Gardiner, of course, would not bow down to the knowledge of those who had lived for less time than he had because of course, his experience was definitely superior to their mere twenty something years of knowledge. Besides, that hadn't even been long enough to really experience the _real_ world, and their ideals had no practical application, though theoretically they may have had some merit.

In the end, Mrs. Gardiner and Lizzy, having nothing to contribute, paid the bill and ushered Mr. Gardiner, still red-faced, from the restaurant, leaving the waiter a generous tip that Mr. Gardiner insisted was too much for someone so "impudent and arrogant to assume he knows better than I do."

Mrs. Gardiner and Lizzy smirked all the way up the elevator at the scowl that remained on Mr. Gardiner's fuming face.

"Just let it go, Uncle," Lizzy smiled. "It's not a big deal, and he'll probably realize that you're right sooner or later."

"The way he acts, I doubt it will be sooner," he muttered in response as the elevator dinged to signal their arrival at their floor.

"Let's just calmly go to sleep and think about it tomorrow, okay?" Mrs. Gardiner suggested.

Mr. Gardiner made some incoherent mumblings, so Mrs. Gardiner handed Lizzy her room key, and winked before dragging the still mumbling Mr. Gardiner to their own respective hotel room.

Lizzy, exhausted from a long day, fell face first into her the soft, plush pillows of the hotel room's bed. She fell asleep almost immediately, and dreamt of annoying acquaintances and enormous estates.

* * *

Lizzy groaned as her phone rang, instantly angry at whoever could possibly want to call her at such an obscenely early hour.

Flipping open her phone, she answered the call. "This better be good or else I might possibly have to cut off one of your limbs for disturbing my sleep."

"Wow, so drastic," a familiar voice said.

"Emma!" Lizzy exclaimed, her sleepiness suddenly cast away.

"I have good news," she said.

"What is it?" Lizzy asked, curious to know what good news her friend had.

"So I finished the article, and we put it out already. There's been an uproar over here about the whole situation. Everyone is talking about how horrible Lady de Bourgh is. By next week, news will have spread a lot more. It looks like things are great!" Emma explained.

"Wow! That's great," Lizzy replied. "Anne will be really happy about it!"

"And you?" Emma inquired.

"What do you mean 'and me'?" Lizzy asked.

"I think you know what I mean. If the engagement is broken off, what will you do?"

"Nothing; it doesn't really matter to me," Lizzy answered.

"Huh," was the only thing Emma said in reply.

"What do you mean by that?" Lizzy asked, getting frustrated at Emma's mysteriousness.

"Will you take advantage of the situation?"

"I don't—what? Oh my gosh, you think I want to get together with Darcy?" Lizzy almost yelled into the phone.

"Volume, dear," Emma reminded.

"Oh yes, sorry. No, no. You've got it all wrong. I'm not doing this so that I can have a chance. I'm doing this as a favor to Anne. You see, she was the one who asked me to help her out. She already has a significant other, and besides, she really doesn't want to marry her cousin. I mean, it's kind of reasonable, seeing how he's kind of a prick anyway, and—"

"You're rambling," Emma interrupted her friend.

"Sorry," Lizzy blushed.

"You know, from a completely objective point of view, it might seem like you were making excuses for yourself. Interesting."

"I'm not—"

"Anyway, dear, I have to get back to work. Have a great day, and have fun traveling!"

"You're at work this early?" Lizzy demanded.

"Early?" Emma replied. "It's nearly eleven!"

"What?" Lizzy glanced at the clock in sudden shock. "I overslept! My aunt and uncle must be waiting for me! Sorry, but I really have to go!"

"That's fine. The article's already in the magazine if you care to read it."

"I'll definitely read it. Thanks so much for all your hard work. I really appreciate it!"

"No problem. It was really fun to write, and I am glad to help," Emma replied. "Alice and I really had a good time with it. Anyway, I really have to get back to work, so I 'll talk to you later?"

"Yeah, definitely!" Lizzy returned.

"Bye bye."

"Good bye." Lizzy hung up the phone, feeling satisfied. Lady Catherine would get quite a shock when she found out that the entire public looked at her with distaste and disapproval. It would be such a change from what she was used to, and somehow, Lizzy felt a little self-satisfied at that, though she probably should not have been happy with another's misery. But it _was _Lady Catherine, and how could you not be happy when she was miserable? Exactly.

* * *

Lady Catherine de Bourgh was losing her patience. First, Nathan Collins had found it imperative to interrupt her during her afternoon tea. Granted, he had a legitimate reason for doing so, but still, reason or no reason, it was always unpleasant to speak with him. He was so sniveling and incompetent.

However this time, it was important. She could not possibly accept the libel being printed about him. The idea that she had simply _cheated _Fitzwilliam Darcy out of his inheritance was ludicrous! Besides, even if she had, how dare the press, much the a _gossip_ magazine print such a thing?

Did they simply not understand how powerful a woman she was? How she could crush them with a swift blow? But that would be too easy, and they would not know true pain and humiliation. She was fairly sure she knew who was behind the whole thing. It reeked of one recalcitrant, disrespectful Miss Elizabeth Bennet, that writer girl, still single and almost 30, shocking though it was. Now that she was getting old and losing hope of ever attracting a man, here she was, hoping to sabotage a match made in heaven for her own selfish gain. Collins's additional research had only confirmed her suspicion that it was Lizzy's jealousy to prompt her to such action.

He asked if he should take care of the situation, and Lady Catherine smirked. "No," she had answered, "I will deal with this one on my own."

Well, there were ways to deal with such things, and Lady Catherine had no doubt in her mind that Lizzy could be made to see reason. If sheer shame would not put her back in her place, a well-placed dollar might work to one's advantage here and there.

* * *

Not far away, Anne de Bourgh was doing a happy dance in the privacy of her own room, feeling extraordinary love for her friend, and finally some hope, for she had been quite lacking in that department for the past few months.

The door opened, and Darcy entered.

Anne stopped mid-motion, and stared mortified at her cousin.

He stared at her wordlessly.

"You might have knocked, you know," she told him finally.

"I know, but I prefer to be rude and surprising," he replied.

"Not surprising at all."

"May I inquire as to the source of your elation?" he asked.

"Uhm," Anne said awkwardly, knowing that though she was happy, the whole situation might be somewhat offensive to him. But it wasn't like she had done it because she _disliked _him, but rather because she liked Richard too much to let him go.

She awkwardly picked up the magazine on her bed and handed it to him. "I did a little research," she mumbled, slightly embarrassed.

Darcy skimmed through the article quickly, and Anne carefully watched his reaction, nervously waiting for something to tell her what he thought of it. She knew that he didn't have feelings for _her_, so would he be happy? Or would he be rigidly adherent to rules and expectation. After all, this was the scandal that would cause the engagement to fall apart.

_**Clandestine Love Affairs Among the Nation's Elite?**_

_By Emma Ono_

_Lady Catherine de Bourgh, or the 'Lofty Lady' as she's commonly known, is infamous for her rigid standards, upright behavior and ruthless business acumen. You may wonder where this wealthy socialite gained her prestige and—more importantly—her fortune. Lady Catherine came to her current state of power when she took over the running of the Darcy family business after the tragic death of her brother-in-law Fitzwilliam Darcy Sr. in 1998; little is known about the transfer of power but many speculate that Lady Catherine might have taken advantage of her nephew's youth and "inexperience" to make more personal gains in the business than was legally viable, and now refuses to cede control to the rightful owner. Since then, she has brutally eliminated hundreds of jobs only to ship them overseas in addition to forcing mergers with smaller businesses. _

_Lady Catherine is renowned for her close-fisted control over her victims, most especially her own daughter Anne de Bourgh who is currently engaged to her cousin Fitzwilliam Darcy. Lady Catherine is known to have encouraged the union and is spending extravagant amounts upwards of $1 million on the upcoming nuptials despite the individuals' misgivings about the relationship. Neither party claims love; their marriage appears to be more of a 'marriage of convenience'—can anyone say 'arranged marriage?' It appears that 'Happily Never After' will be the theme for this wedding. _

_But focusing back on the Lofty Lady…Given her seemingly strict-constructionist choices in regards to her daughter, many expect Lady Catherine to be, herself, a lady of outstanding moral character despite her dangerous business dealings. What else would you expect of a Lady of fortune connected to British royalty? _

_Recently, however, the cracks in the Lofty Lady's façade have begun to show. Just last Monday, Lady de Bough was seen at the Derbyshire County Jail visiting a certain Joseph Smith. Sound unfamiliar? Well, this Joseph Smith happens to be the murderer of Lady Catherine's late father. He is also known to have robbed the de Bourgh family of many of their choicest jewels and heirlooms which—to this day—have not been recovered. _

_What exactly is their relationship? Well, your faithful writers have dug a little further into Lady Catherine's murky past to disclose to our dedicated readers the reasons behind this frankly disturbing relationship between Lady Catherine and her father's murderer. _

_Lady Catherine, it appears, was once neither refined nor uptight. Lady Catherine, or Catherine Gispard de Rielle as she was once known, was always the belle of the ball. Family friends say that she had countless numbers of suitors waiting at her beck and call. Nevertheless, Miss Catherine, it appeared, wanted adventure; she wanted love, danger, and…something different. _

_According to family servants from the time, Lady Catherine began meeting secretly with the Joseph Smith—her family's new butler—in the summer of her seventeenth year. Servants say the relationship progressed from hate to verbal sparring to tolerance. This was followed by clandestine meetings into the early morning hours. _

"_She would always come back with her clothes tousled and traces of dirt and moss in her hair" says one servant. Another claims that he "stumbled upon the pair, naked" while taking the horses out for exercise early one morning. Catherine's personal maid revealed that Catherine confessed that "no man [had] ever made [her] feel so special" and that "this was the man [she wanted] to lose her innocence to." It's obvious she did…many times. _

_So how did the man who she loved end up tearing Catherine's family apart? There is no end to the speculation. Some say that Smith acted out of revenge; later during her seventeenth year, Lady Catherine's parents arranged a union for her with a 'Mr. Edward de Bourgh.' Smith, furious that his love was slipping out of his grasp, killed the instigator—Lady Catherine's father. _

_However, theorists have also proposed that Smith never loved Catherine at all, and was after the de Rielle's family fortune, and hoped to seduce the daughter in the hopes of a marriage. However, his hopes having been dashed by her impending proposal, he removed the obstacle to their union. _

_Catherine, furious, grief-stricken and devastated ensured that Smith would be given a heavy sentence and wrote him out of her life. She then married Mr. Edward de Bourgh. _

_So why does she is she seeing him again? There is speculation among close family friends that Lady Catherine is looking for adventure in her life. An acquaintance who wished to remain anonymous said of the matter: "I think Lady Catherine misses the sex. From what I've heard she only ever satisfied her desires with Smith. She's always complained that her husband Edward was unsatisfactory in bed. If you ask me, she's looking to rekindle her teenage love affair at her ripe age of sixty-four."_

_Love affairs, scandals? Who knows what else Lady Catherine has yet to reveal. We'll leave the rest up to your imagination, dear readers, until we find discover more information. _ Darcy put down the magazine.

"So, what do you think?" Anne asked, swaying back and forth nervously, her hands behind her back, biting her lip.

Darcy looked at her for a while, then suddenly began laughing. "How did you do this?"

Anne smiled in relief. "I have connections."

Darcy raised an eyebrow. "And who would those connections be?"

"Who is Emma Ono?"

"The writer of the article," Anne replied evasively.

"Well, I see you aren't going to answer me, but I'll answer you anyway. I'm happy for you, although I think the wrath of Aunt Catherine will be very great this time. Not that we should care anymore." Darcy looked carefully at Anne. "I don't see why you're so happy that your mother is attacked in such a way."

"Oh come on," Anne rolled her eyes. "The old bag deserves it. Besides, it's kind of disgusting that she was rolling around with this guy. I really actually didn't need to know that."

"Nor did I," said Darcy, pulling a face.

"But the bad rap she'll be getting with this, will put the public eye on her, and hopefully, she'll be pressured into giving back your inheritance, and breaking up this marriage."

"Then you'll be happy with Richard," Darcy commented, his face expressionless.

"And you'll be free to pursue Lizzy!" Anne exclaimed.

Darcy paled.

` "No?" Anne asked curiously.

"No. It's been far too long, and I really don't think I should be bothering her any more. She's obviously moved on with her life, and I think after I take control of the firm, I should as well."

"Knowing you, you're going to bury yourself in work to make yourself forget about the girl you love," Anne muttered.

"What?" Darcy asked.

"You're just going to stand back and let everything you ever wanted go?"

"I beg your pardon. Lizzy is not 'all I've ever wanted.' I have a lot of other aspirations, and regaining control of my company is part of what makes me happy," Darcy insisted.

"Who are you trying to kid, really? Will, I know that for the longest time, Lizzy has been one of the only things that has made you happy. I know that things have been so tough for you, and the fact that you had hope when she was there was something about you was different."

"Stop being ridiculous. I've spent far too long on juvenile infatuations, and I've probably just held on much too long. I think I've grown a lot, and now I realize how silly it was."

Anne snickered. "You keep telling yourself that. Have fun lying to yourself. I bet you must feel real proud of yourself, keeping all that integrity inside."

"I don't need you to judge me." Darcy stalked out of the room, leaving Anne standing all alone, still holding the magazine.

* * *

_**Big-shot Wedding Called Off**_

_By Alice Frost_

_ The wedding of Fitzwilliam Darcy and Anne de Bourgh has been called off, coinciding with the recent public scandal involving the coerced engagement, and Lady Catherine's own demons that have come to the surface shockingly. _

_ She has refused interviews and refuses to comment. Her friend Nathan Collins has merely said that she is above caring about the "frivolous gossipmongers that plague the world." _

_ However, it is the author's personal opinion that the engagement has been called off as a direct result of the article. The former bride, when asked what her plans are now, has said that she plans to marry her long time sweetheart, Richard Fitzwilliam. The couple are very happy, she says, and are glad of the sudden turn in events. _

_ In addition to breaking off the engagement, Lady Catherine has restored Fitzwilliam Darcy's ownership of his company. One can only hope that her sense of shame has been restored by her recent public disgrace. _

_ Unfortunately, Darcy was not available for comment, but we can only assume that he will be glad to regain control of his rightful inheritance. Perhaps at last, things are what they should be. _

**A/N: More author's note, I stick it at the end in case you people get tired of my long ramblings, but this chapter is important, okay? So stick with me for a second. The first article was indeed written by the lovely em38. Thank you so much. She did a great job, and I kept it mostly the same as what she wrote, tweaking it a bit to fit my intentions, but otherwise, most of it is her! So good job with that, Emsters! **

**NaNoWriMo is officially over, and I officially finished! So thank you to all the reviewers who reviewed. Some of those really got me through difficult days this month. **

**Be sure to let me know what you think about the latest developments in this chapter. I am pretty happy with it **** Happy fanficcing!**


	25. Surprise!

**A/N: Sorry for being a week late, but I misplaced my folder where I had handwritten notes, and I've been feeling pretty crappy, but... here it is! Happy holidays, everybody! **

Chapter 25: Surprise!

_From the Journals of Miss Elizabeth Bennet_

_December 23__rd__, 1997_

_So today, Darcy dragged me along to a first date. I was surprised that he didn't literally throw money at me the whole time, considering the unilateral nature of his feelings. Anyways, we went to the carnival today, which was surprisingly sweet of him. I guess it was sort of unexpected that he would take me to such a "commoner's" place, especially considering his background. _

_Before I continue, I must note that he did not try to "put the moves on me," so Charlotte can stop looking over my shoulder, frothing at the mouth slightly. Yes, Charlotte, maybe it was the teensiest bit sweet, but it was tons of other things too. By no means am I "falling for him." _

_Commence the list of good and bad things! _

_Good things (I am trying to be more positive, okay. Jane told me not to be so mean): _

_He bought me cotton candy (even though I insisted on paying. He simply ignored my protests), which turned out to be an almost-disaster because everyone knows that I have an incredibly low sugar tolerance. I started acting crazy and super hyper, and he really got dragged around by me. On the plus side, that was the first time I've ever seen him smile. I didn't even know he was capable of such motions. In one of my more unusual ideas, I dragged him over to the carousel. All the little kids were going around, but that didn't mean I couldn't. So what if all the kids and their parents stared as I spun around on my caramel-colored horse, and Darcy on his white one? (Yes, he was very sporting and cooperative). _

_I won myself a stuffed bear—apparently Darcy can't shoot at ALL. But it's okay, because I would have felt guilty if he could. Well, not really guilty, but awkward for receiving a gift from him. _

_Bad things (Reader or possibly future Lizzy, be prepared for a long list):_

_The Ferris Wheel. Oh dear. I am at a loss for words for how uncomfortable that was. First of all, the Ferris wheel was enormous. So it took forever to go around and the idiots behind us decided to take forever getting on and off the wheel. We had almost nothing to say between the two of us, so it was awfully silent. What's worse, is how everyone treated us like we were a couple. We kind of were, but actually really not. The whole thing was just really awful and I was fidgety because of the massive amounts of sugar I had consumed. And no, Charlotte, we did not make mad, passionate love on the bottom of the little cage we were enclosed in. We just sat across from each other, saying nothing. He kept looking at me, and it was so awkward. I literally had nothing to say, and it certainly was not because we were "locking lips." Anyway, I think I have about exhausted the topic. Moving on. _

_The cotton candy. So yes, it may have been sweet if I were his real girlfriend, but seriously, I really don't want to feel indebted to him. I mean, this whole thing isn't exactly my fault, but I feel like such a gold digger. I just don't want to lead him on or something. Seriously, why does he even do this to himself? I feel like such an awful person for going along with this, though I really don't have a choice. _

_CHARLOTTE NEEDS TO STOP READING OVER MY SHOULDER. _

_Fine. I give up. Today is simply a disaster._

Lady Catherine de Bourgh's thin lips curved up in a sinister smile as she turned the page of one Elizabeth Bennet's purloined journal.

Reading someone's private journals—invasive? Not at all! Payign the girl's sister to steal them—immoral? Of course not. Besides, the sister was a whore—probably badly needed the money for her pimp.

Besides, Elizabeth Bennet, professional writer and homewrecker was going down, and she deserved it, the little minx.

* * *

"Well I'm glad things worked out the way they were supposed to," Georgiana laughed.

"Hardly," her brother smirked.

"Are you coming home soon, then?" she asked.

"Yeah, I just got to get some things sorted out at the company. Everything's a mess over here. I've caught at least six employees drinking at their desks, and once I even heard a toast for the 'downfall of the wicked witch' from outside a cubicle wall."

Georgiana snickered. "I would be celebrating too. In fact, why aren't you celebrating?"

"I'm busy," he explained.

"Uh huh," Georgiana rolled her eyes, even though she knew he couldn't see the motion, and adjusted the phone to her other ear. "I know you're becoming your workaholic self and becoming addicted to the office. Seriously, get back home sometime. We miss you."

"And by we, you mean you and the Ms. Reynolds, correct?"

"Of course. Who else were you expecting?" Georgiana grinned mischievously.

"Nobody," he replied airily, "but two people is not a lot to look forward to, especially if one of them is a freckle-nosed brat sister."

"Hey! I resent that. I'm not a brat, and you know it," she exclaimed.

It was Darcy's turn to say, "Uh huh," into the phone.

Georgiana crossed her arms, supporting the phone with her shoulder. "I miss you, Will, 'kay? Come back soon."

"Okay, I will. Keep studying, okay? I don't want everyone to think imbecility runs in the family."

"Yeah, me neither."

"Okay, good."

"Fine then."

"Love you."

Silence.

"Come on, Giana."

"Fine, love you too," she rolled her eyes and spit out the last few words obligingly.

"I knew it! Bye, I'll be back tomorrow."

"Okay, I miss you, see you then!" Georgiana put down the phone and snickered, then she dialed another number.

"Hey Lizzy, how long are you going to be staying here?"

"Hi Giana! Nice to hear your voice again. Uhm, I don't think I'll be staying long. I mean, I'm sure it'll be hectic at your house, especially after—"

"Especially after you managed to break up an engagement, cause rampant scandal in the upper echelons of society, and return an entire company to its rightful owner?"

"Yeah, that."

"Don't worry, it's just me and Ms. Reynolds and a few other house dwellers."

"Oh?"

Georgiana smirked. "My brother's still at work. He's such a workaholic. Won't even come home to see his darling sister."

"I'm sure he's very busy with the new changes."

"Yeah, he won't be home for a while." She had to pause there to stifle her laughter to avoid suspicion. "So you should keep me company! Your aunt and uncle can stay too."

"That's very kind of you, but—"

"I insist. It would be rude to refuse."

Lizzy laughed. "Well, now that you put it that way—"

"Great! It's settled then!" she cackled maniacally.

"Uhm, are you really that lonely? I'm almost afraid you've been driven insane. What happens if I make it over there and find that you are no longer human?"

"Don't worry about that, I keep my sanity pills right next to the crazy pills."

"That's very reassuring," Lizzy grinned.

"Okay, take care, and drive safely then," Georgiana smiled.

"I will. We'll be there tomorrow morning," Lizzy told her friend.

"I can't wait!"

"Me neither. Bye!"

"Bye bye!'

Lizzy put down the phone, feeling immensely relieved. _Darcy's not going to be there! Darcy's not going to be there! _She was incredibly elated at the thought. That meant no awkward encounters, no uncomfortable how-do-you-do's, no weird "so, I heard you got unengaged" conversations. Everything was going to work one hundred percent smoothly.

* * *

Saturday dawned bright and cheerful for the unsuspecting couple. While Mr. Gardiner was driving the final stretches past Lambton, Darcy was hurrying back home with a box of chocolates as an apology for being away for so long.

Eventually, Mr. Gardiner pulled up to the Pemberley. Lizzy spent several moments gaping at the sheer size of the grounds.

"This is it," Mr. Gardiner announced.

"Just as I remembered it," beamed Mrs. Gardiner. "Really, a beautiful estate. What do you think, Lizzy?"

"I think she left her jaw on the ground. Be sure to pick up with you're done, dear," Mr. Gardiner smirked.

"Well, you should probably press the button," Mrs. Gardiner gestured toward the small intercom on the side of the gate. "Our lovely girl is too busy staring. You'd think the master of the house was standing out there."

Mrs. Gardiner was actually not far off the truth. The master of the house _was _standing "out there," though he was hidden from view by a particularly wide tree. And by the time the car had been buzzed in, and the tree would no longer obscure her view, he had already disappeared into the house.

Lizzy and her aunt and uncle were received very enthusiastically by Ms. Reynolds, the housekeeper, who told them that Miss Georgiana was occupied at the moment, and wished for her to give them a tour of the house. The three readily agreed. Mrs. Gardiner, in particular, was very curious to see what kind of house the Darcy's lived in, as she had never actually been inside, despite admiring it from the outside for such a long time.

Lizzy felt more and more out of place as they passed through hallways lined with priceless vases that could have belonged to the British museum, and paintings that the Queen herself probably coveted. They finally reached the library. Though she had felt awkward and like a intruder in the rest of the house, Lizzy felt like she had reached a room where she would readily consent to stay in for the rest of her life, with only the bare necessities to sustain her.

Shelves were stacked high to the ceiling, and ladders were necessary to reach the shelves at the very top. A voracious reader, Lizzy could not imagine reading all the books in the room during her lifetime. On one wall, surprisingly free of books, there hung several family portraits. Lizzy immediately recognized those of the late Mr. and Mrs. Darcy and their children.

"Handsome, isn't he?" Ms. Reynolds had crept up behind Lizzy while she stood staring at the portrait at the wall, memorizing its every detail.

Lizzy jumped slightly. "Yes, I Darcy—I mean, I daresay he is." Embarrassed at her slip of the tongue, Lizzy rapidly added, "Georgiana looks very beautiful as well, but quite a bit younger."

Ms. Reynolds nodded. "Yes, that portrait was taken before—well, before—"

"Excuse me," Mrs. Gardiner interrupted. "Could you show us the sitting room? I'm afraid my husband is uncomfortable in the presence of so many books. Never liked reading, that man," she whispered.

"Of course," Ms. Reynolds smiled, happy to comply with the guest's request. Noting the reluctance of one of her guest's reluctance to leave, she told Lizzy that she could stay. Lizzy smiled gratefully at the housekeepers' perceptiveness. As her aunt and uncle followed Ms. Reynolds on to the next room, Lizzy began to stroll along the shelves, savoring the smell of books. It was utterly silent in the absence of other people, but she could imagine the dull rustling of pages and the occasional smash of a particularly heavy reference book hitting the desk, or an occasional cough or sniffle from the occupants until she realized that this was a private home library, not a public library where one would be privy to all sorts of noises. In this one, silence would hold golden reign.

The concept was slightly thrilling, and she ran her fingers against the spines of the books rather guiltily, feeling almost as if she shouldn't touch anything. Some of the books looked old, and therefore fragile and valuable.

She recognized some titles, but many, many more she had never even heard of. Not all of the books were fiction. Some appeared to be old scientific journals, some dating back a century or more back. As she reached the darker recesses of the library, she found a shelf that was unlike the others: she recognized every single title on it. Examining it closer, she discovered that not only did she recognize the titles, she recognized the books themselves. She pulled a couple out, and realized what this shelf was dedicated to.

She flipped open _Wuthering Heights_ to the front flyleaf, and discovered a handwritten note.

_Dear Darcy,_

_I hope you had a wonderful Christmas with your family. I'm sorry I couldn't be there at your dinner, but my mom invited a lot of relatives over, and you know how it is. Merry Christmas!_

_Sincerely,_

_Lizzy_

Lizzy's mind drifted off to more distant days, where she had actually been his _girlfriend_. She smiled. The concept seemed so foreign now, and she couldn't fathom what it would be like, especially now that he was unengaged, the Charlotte part of her brain reminded her. It was good to know that being in libraries always reawakened the voice of a single librarian in her mind.

She put it back on the shelf, along with the rest of the books she had ever given to him as presents. Reaching the end of the shelf, she noticed two books that she didn't recognize. She took it off the shelf. It was a plain blue-bound book with no words on the cover. She opened it and saw on the title page: "Property of Fitzwilliam Darcy," and almost put it back immediately.

But Charlotte's nagging and scheming had inspired an evil streak in Lizzy, so she opened it, wondering what she would find inside. It seemed to be a diary, not unlike the ones she had written, to be perfectly honest. She flipped to a random page.

_December 23__rd__, 1997_

_Today was the—_

A sudden sound in the front of the library interrupted her reading. Panicked, she slipped the diary into her pocket rather than returning it to the shelf, and she began slinking around the shelves, her heart pounding, fearful of discovery.

She peered around one of the towering shelves and froze. The person prowling around the library was none other than Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy himself. But Georgiana had insisted that—

Oh. That little—

She ducked as he moved forward. She peered fearfully between the books at him. Of course, Lizzy had not been thinking carefully when she decided that the best hiding place for a standard sized diary was in a standard sized hoodie pocket. Consequentially, the diary decided to wriggle itself free of the constraining dimensions of the pocket. To her horror, the diary onto the ground, and Lizzy snatched it up, but not before Darcy had turned around.

Reviewing her options, Lizzy discovered that her best option was to make a beeline for the door. It didn't matter if he saw her. As long as they did not have to speak, or make eye contact, that was enough. After she got out of the door, it would be straight to Georgiana for a talking to.

But Darcy had other ideas. As he rounded the row before the one she was standing in, she decided to find a more secure location for the diary. Down her tucked in shirt the little blue book went, and she was thankful for tucking in her shirt, as it created it a pocket for the incredibly uncomfortable book as it rubbed against her stomach and ribcage.

"Lizzy?" he asked incredulously as he finally made it to her row.

Lizzy quieted the hiss of the despair she had been about to emit. "Uh, hi. Uhm, I was just, uh, leaving. Just passing through. My aunt and uncle just went through that door. So, yeah. Ms. Reynolds was showing us around, and—" she began to run out of excuses. "I thought you weren't going to be here," she burst out. "I had no idea. If I knew, I wouldn't have come at all, because I'm sure I've made an enormous mess of things."

For an excruciatingly long moment, his face was blank. "I beg pardon," he said, "I don't quite understand." And Lizzy felt her knees melting slightly because she hadn't heard that slight British accent baritone voice for such a very long time, and it was quite a shock.

Before Lizzy had a chance to speak, he did. Noticing the shelf she was standing next to, he smiled. "I never really liked _Wuthering Heights_. I think that was perhaps the worst present I've ever gotten. The other books were mostly decent."

"What?" she squeaked, before correcting her nervous change of voice. "How can you not like _Wuthering Heights_? Emily Bronte is amazing!"

"Yes, admittedly so. All the Bronte sisters were 'amazing,' but the storyline just didn't make sense to me. They were both so stupid. Why would Heathcliff just happen to leave right before Catherine was declaring her love for him, and if she truly loved him, she wouldn't have agreed to marry Edward Linton in the first place. The whole thing is just one confusing mess, and by today's standards, most of the characters need severe mental therapy."

"Yes, but we shouldn't judge such novels by today's standards. They weren't written by them, so they shouldn't be judged on them."

"Ah, but we are reading them today, so ought we not to judge them by today's standards to determine whether they are fit reading material?"

He made a good point, so she decided to shut up before she embarrassed herself further. She noticed his eyes flick to the last diary sitting alone on the shelf, missing its one mate, and his gaze shifted back to her, sliding down from her eyes to her blouse, and the slight bulge at her stomach.

"I have a question, since I haven't seen you in so long," Darcy remarked.

Lizzy nodded.

"Have you recently become impregnated with a square baby?"

"What?"

"I take it from your tone of surprise that you haven't, so the only other logical conclusion is, considering the one missing book on the shelf is that you stuffed my journal down your shirt as I walked in. I didn't know it was such a close to the heart read," he raised an eyebrow.

Lizzy flushed with embarrassment. "I, er, yeah. I, uh, you came in so suddenly, and I—"

"It's fine."

She blushed as she slipped a hand down the front of her shirt to retrieve the diary. After pulling it out, she handed it back to Darcy. It was still warm, and he tried not to think of where it had been, especially after staring with such fascination at the process of retrieval.

"So you're here with your aunt and uncle?" he asked, returning the diary to its rightful place, and relieving the awkward silence that had settled over them. Why was he so _congenial_? Wasn't he supposed to be stressed with work? Where was the crabby, antisocial Darcy she knew so well? When had he ever been capable of small talk, and deal with situations so well?

"Uh, yes," she managed to stutter, even though she was really only saying one word.

"And how are you liking Pemberley and Lambton?"

"Very well, thank you. The, uh, grounds are really beautiful."

He smiled. "That is a great compliment."

"Really?" she laughed nervously. "I hardly think it does this justice."

"Come on," he gestured. "Why don't you introduce me to your aunt and uncle?"

He waited until she had exited the room before following after her, leaving her wondering if he had always been such a gentleman, or if she had merely failed to realize it.

**A/N: Dearest readers, fear not, for Pemberley is not over yet! I could have added more detail, but to be honest, you probably know how pretty Pemberley is, and how impressed Lizzy is by it, so I'll leave that as assumed information because I'm really tired, and it's almost Christmas! Hopefully, I'll write another chapter soon. Ahaha. Review please? Hope you have a lovely holiday, my lovely readers! Poop. There was something I wanted to say, but I forgot. D: THIS SUCKS. Okay, please review anyway, my friends. **


	26. Thresholds

**A/N: I just had a terrible realization: something I thought I had written in before was not included. Crap. Ah well. This'll be a short chapter to fill the events in. It's not really that great—I admit it, but leave your thoughts in a review anyway. Thanks **

Chapter 26: Thresholds 

_From the Journals of Miss Elizabeth Bennet_

_January 1__st__, 1998_

_It's 5 in the morning, and I can't sleep at all. Why? I blame it all on one Fitzwilliam Darcy. Obvious, just a few hours ago was New Year's eve, and of course my mother encouraged (forced) me to accept Darcy's offer for a date. _

_And you will not believe where he decided to take me. It's somewhere I've always wanted to be on New Year's eve: Times Square. He drove in his fancy pantsy car, and he took me around the city. I have to say that I am in love, though unfortunately for him, it is not with him. I am in love with the city. In all its clutter and chaos, I feel like I belong. Strange, right? Once I finish all my education, I would love to move there to live. _

_When it came close to midnight, we stood there in the crowd, and it was the most amazing New Year's eve I've ever had. It was phenomenal being somewhere, seeing so many people. But, to get down to the real reason I can't sleep… _

_I'm not exactly sure how it happened, but I think I may have been drunk on the feeling of wonderment and having so many people around me, but when the ball dropped, I impulsively grabbed Darcy and planted a kiss on him. And it wasn't just a peck on the cheek, or just a little smooch. It lasted… more than a few seconds, needless to say. It was kind of amazing (not that this changes my feelings about him, of course). He was so gentle and sweet, it made me feel a little bad for not feeling the same about him. I really wish I did, and it was probably a big mistake. But it was New Year. It doesn't mean much, does it? _

Lizzy was at a loss, watching the interaction between Darcy and her aunt and uncle. They were getting along quite well over tea, and she was utterly astonished to see how different was. Gone was the reticence that had plagued his previous socializing, and instead was a man whose words flowed easily, who was the epitome of grace and good humor. What had happened? Was it the sudden responsibility that had changed him for the better?

She was a little embarrassed because the house was so beautiful, and now the host was so gracious, and she felt like a complete intruder on the picturesque scene.

"Do you enjoy fishing?" Darcy asked.

"Why, yes, I do. But I don't have very much opportunity for that," Mr. Gardiner admitted.

"Well, why don't you fish on our lake? You're welcome to it anytime," Darcy offered.

"That is very kind of you, sir. I might just take you up on your offer."

Lizzy groaned inwardly. She wanted to leave. Everyone looked like they were getting along just fine, and she was just the awkward bystander. Because not only had he become a more open and kind person, something else had changed about Darcy. He no longer stared at her with that blazing gaze that twist her stomach into a knot, the stare that she could feel on the back of her neck ten years ago during English. He was pleasantly polite, and that was it.

And it was that sudden loss of something that had always been there, whether she had always appreciated it or not, that sent her into sudden confusion.

"Lizzy?" Mrs. Gardiner broke into her thoughts.

"Hmm?" Lizzy looked up. Everyone else was standing up.

"We're going for a walk," Darcy smiled, and Lizzy felt suddenly queasy, though she was unsure why.

"You coming?" Mr. Gardiner asked.

She nodded, and flashed everyone a brief smile before getting up. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner took off by themselves, leaving the younger couple behind. Lizzy didn't know what to say, so the first few steps were taken in silence.

"How do you like Pemberley?" Darcy asked, gesturing around them.

Lizzy smiled, "It's beautiful. Now I finally understand the disdain you had for the housing in Hartford."

"Hmm, perhaps it couldn't compare to Pemberley, but I suppose I might have been a little too critical of American architecture. There have been significant accomplishments in that country."

"That's true."

They strolled along in silence again, before Darcy spoke again.

"I heard what you did for Anne."

_For Anne._ Lizzy's step faltered. Of course Anne would have told Darcy her hand in the breakup, and perhaps helping Anne had been her main motive, but Darcy was thanking her for helping Anne, not him. If everything she had observed so far had been an indication of his changed feelings, then this was probably a sure sign.

"Oh, that," was Lizzy's eloquent reply.

"I suppose I've been rather a coward, and superbly selfish. And I've been doing some self-reflection recently, and I've seen just what an idiot I've been in so many respects."

_That would explain it. He regrets ever falling in love with me. Of course, I'm too lowly for someone of such high class and breeding. He finally realizes the mistake he made. _And suddenly, Lizzy felt utterly desolate at this revelation.

"But I'm glad things are sorted out now, and I have you to thank for that." He flashed her a dazzling smile, and Lizzy nearly stumbled. Something was terribly, terribly wrong, and she just wanted to leave. She felt so sick that she needed curl up with a carton of ice cream. That was probably the only appropriate response to the situation.

"No need," she smiled weakly.

"No. You have done something so incredible, and completely changed my life, so how could I not be grateful for your contribution?"

_He's grateful for my contribution… but not me. _

"Well, then, you're welcome."

From an upstairs window, Georgiana smiled as she saw the pair walking together in what looked like companionable silence. Things were finally going right.

* * *

"Did you get her?" Kitty asked frantically.

"No! She's not picking up," Jane cried, after leaving another voicemail.

Dialing again, she was relieved to finally receive a response.

"Jane! What's happening? I just heard your voicemail," Lizzy exclaimed.

"No, dad's gone to look for Lydia, and he says that he needs Uncle Gardiner to come back immediately. I'm so sorry to bring such distressing news while you're on vacation and all—"

"No, Jane, thank you so much for calling. How's mom holding up?"

"Not well, I'm afraid. She won't come out of her room, she's so upset."

"Well, I'll get them immediately," said Lizzy before hanging up. She collapsed on the sofa. Everything had just slipped down a notch on the horrible scale. Just as she was starting to shift her opinion of Darcy, he had also dramatically shifted his, and they were simply horribly out of sync. She had returned to the house after their walk feeling completely empty. Everything had changed without her permission.

And now life was dealing its worst. She stood up and strode to the door of the sitting room and was just about to open it when it suddenly opened. Seeing her pale, disheveled appearance and tear streaks, Darcy stopped with a look of surprise.

"Sorry, I have to go," Lizzy wiped her nose on her sleeve. Things couldn't get any worse, so she had better just leave.

"Wait. Slow down. What's wrong?" Darcy asked, taking her by the shoulders and sitting her back down on the sofa. He reached over to grab the box of tissues on the side table and offered it to her. She took several and blew her nose before taking out her cell phone, and playing the most recent voicemail.

_-her voicemail. Oh, Lizzy, as soon as you get this message, call back. Something terrible has happened. Lydia's run away, and she left a note saying that she's gone off with Wickham! Everything's in an uproar, and we don't know what to do. Please come back as soon as you can. Call back, Lizzy. _

"This is entirely my fault," Darcy announced.

"How is your fault? I of all people knew how dangerous he was, yet I didn't even notice when my own sister was in danger. I should have paid better attention to her. She's my own sister! I've already lost one of my best friends to him. I'm not about to let that happen again."

"Lizzy, that's not all of it. You don't even know the whole story. I don't know how you found out the truth about Elise, but that isn't the only thing he's done. You were with me after my father died, but what I never told you is that it was Wickham who did it. I don't know if he was drunk or not, and that doesn't really matter, but I know that he knew that my father had wanted to leave him some money as an inheritance because he had nothing of his own. And of course you know that I cut off Wickham because of the way he was spending his money."

Lizzy nodded, wiping her eyes with another tissue. How could she have so sorely misjudged the two men?

"But two years ago, he did something horrendous. He took advantage of Georgiana's naïveté and my absence to convince her that she loved him, and that they should run away. Of course, he wanted a ransom. Yet, after taking care of the matter privately, it was I, in my weakness, who decided not to press charges, to keep the issue quiet. I can never forgive myself for that, because Georgiana is still hurt because that betrayal. She was only 15. I, too, know what it is to have my sister in his hands."

Lizzy's heart was wrenched by the expression of ache on his face. And she was stupid, stupid, stupid. How could she ever have mistaken this kind man who had suffered so, so much in front of her for a misanthrope? And how could she ever have caused more hurt to him? After all he had gone through, he deserved a little happiness, and perhaps now that he had his company back, and he was an independent man, and he had gotten over his decade-long infatuation, perhaps he would finally have happiness.

"I have to go," Lizzy whispered, standing up.

"I'll get them," Darcy said. "You stay here."

Lizzy nodded gratefully, unable to speak, and he exited the room. She knew it was probably the last time he would want to see her. Such a revelation was given for closure, and this was probably the end. He would never want to see her again. He would show her this bit of kindness, and then there relationship would come to a close. She closed her eyes, but opened them again as she felt someone sit down next to her.

"It's true what he said," Georgiana said.

"I don't doubt him anymore."

"That's why I never wanted you to call me 'Georgie,' because that's what he called me. He said that it was a sign that we had such similar names. And he's such a good liar, Lizzy. I know."

"I know too, and now I regret everything I've ever done, but now I finally realize that sometimes there is no going back."

"That may be true, but there's no reason that you can't mend what has been broken for the future. The past is what it is, and we should all simply make the best of it."

"I've been such an idiot," Lizzy said. "Even you are more grown up than I am."

"Lizzy, we're all idiots at some point in our lives, but we move on, and we grow." Georgiana gave her friend a hug, and let her cry out all the hurt onto her shoulder. While her friend was hurting, she gradually felt as if she were letting go of her own pain. There was no point in letting someone so base have a hold on her anymore.

Unfortunately, Lizzy's pain was fresher and more comprehensive. It would take longer for her to heal. But for now, she was at least grateful that she had a friend in Darcy's sister, and that was probably the closest she'd ever get to him. He probably thought even less of her than before. And even though there was no point in crying over spilt milk, he was a lot more than a simple grocery item in the refrigerator to her. She had finally realized it, but it was too late.

After she had calmed down slightly, she told Georgiana, who smiled, and knew that even though the situation seemed like such a mess, things would work out, and they would run its course, and she was happy that her brother might finally complete his happiness.

After Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner had been brought back to the house by Darcy, Lizzy and Georgiana walked out of the sitting room. As Lizzy stepped into the main hall, Georgiana disappeared down the corridor.

"You must come back soon," Darcy was saying as he shook Mr. Gardiner's hand.

"Of course. Thank you so much for your hospitality," Mrs. Gardiner smiled.

"I hope that this will be resolved as soon as possible."

"As do we."

Lizzy stood still, not knowing what to say. Georgiana returned and slipped something into her hand. She glanced at the messily wrapped package, then at Georgiana, but the girl simply smiled and said, "Open it when you get home."

Lizzy nodded, still in shock.

"And Lizzy, it was very good to see you again. Thank you for everything," Darcy smiled as Mrs. Gardiner led her out of the house with a gentle hand. That was it. It sounded so final. He was officially washing his hands clean of her.

Why couldn't she have realized earlier that he was everything she could have wanted, the one person who would have been most compatible with her, the one who was so perfectly suited for her? Why only now, when he was totally unreachable did she have to find out she had been so blinded by prejudice?

**A/N: So… kinda short chapter. I don't really like it that much, but I just wanted to get through the events so I can focus on the things that I really want to write. So I'll probably be skipping through most of the Lydia ordeal; it's mostly just Lizzy being sick of her family, her mom crying, and Jane worrying anyway, right? So, happy New Year to all of you! Here's hoping 2011 will be better than 2010! **


	27. Infamy

**A/N: About the chapter that was supposed to be put out on the 14****th****… ahaha. Okay, I've been really busy. It's finals, and on top of that, I've just been super stressed. So sorry! But I made sure not to skip more than one chapter. **

Chapter 27: Infamy 

Lizzy sighed and pressed her hand against her forehead. She was getting sick of being at home. It hadn't taken long to return Lydia back home. They weren't very careful and were caught fairly quickly in a seedy motel with a bag of drugs. Lizzy wasn't entirely clear on what happened, but Lydia had managed to get off scot free, while Wickham was arrested for possession and distribution of drugs.

Yet even so, Lydia didn't feel one bit sorry for the worry and humiliation she had brought her family. She laughed it off and instead spent her time bragging about the things Wickham's "hard-earned" money had brought her. She flashed the giant diamond ring that to Lizzy, seemed gaudy and disgustingly flashy. In short, it was perfectly suited for her little sister.

Now that the "tragedy" of a runaway daughter had passed away, Lizzy felt that she was no longer needed, and honestly, she needed a bit of a holiday, even though she had just come back. The only conclusion she could come to was to move back to the city. After all, she had only moved back to Hartford because of her financial and housing situation. Now that she was back to being rather well off, considering her prior bare minimum lifestyle and steady income, she could more than afford to get a nice apartment.

In fact, she was actually looking forward to finding a new place, redecorating it, and reestablishing her life as a single (though perfectly happy, she insisted) woman with a single cat. Mind you, she was not going to be the crazy cat lady. She only had one cat, whose solitary nature suited her just fine. Besides, Charles Bingley was in New York, and she was almost completely sure that her sister would leap at the chance to stay in New York, nor was this assumption incorrect.

"Janie?" Lizzy asked, staring at the ceiling.

"Mm?" Jane replied.

"Do you want to go to New York with me? You could help me find an apartment. Then you could either stay at my place or Charles's. Your choice."

"You're leaving?"

"And hopefully, you will too."

"Hmm," Jane murmured. There was a pause, and Lizzy was surprised to find Jane more hesitant than she had expected."Do you really think now is a good time?"

"When else?"

"Don't you think it's a little… too soon?"

"Not at all. I'm getting sick of staying here, and I no longer have a reason to."

"Why, because Darcy's in New York?"

"What?"

"I overheard Lydia talking about how Darcy was in New York."

Lizzy sat up straighter. "Well how does she know that?"

"I'm not sure…" Jane had hardly finished her sentence before Lizzy was out the door.

She saw Lydia's door close just as she ran out onto the landing.

"Lydia!" she shouted, banging on the door.

"Lydia's downstairs!" Kitty shouted from inside the room. Lizzy turned and ran down the stairs. Lydia wasn't in the living room, so she decided to check the kitchen. Lydia was there, and so was Mrs. Bennet.

Lizzy sighed. "Lydia, can I talk to you for a minute?"  
"Yeah, sure, what's up?" Lydia asked.

"In private?" Lizzy added.

Lydia glanced at her mother, and then turned back to Lizzy. "Sure. Let's take a walk." She followed Lizzy out the front door and closed it behind them. "What is this about?"

"Lydia, Jane told me that you were talking about how Darcy was in New York."

"Yeah, he was the one who found us," Lydia shrugged.

"Wait, what? I thought the police found you.

"Well, I guess they did," Lydia replied, "but Darcy found us first. He was the one who called the police, but he left before they got there. And after the police came to arrest him, they said something about me being a friend of Darcy's, so they gave me a warning and brought me back. They said they weren't going to press charges. But I wasn't supposed to tell you anything. Before he left, Darcy pulled me aside and told me not to tell anyone."

Lizzy stared at Lydia. "Thanks for letting me know."

"Yeah. But why are you asking?"

"It doesn't matter. I have to go," Lizzy said, reopening the front door.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"Nowhere," Lizzy replied.

"Was it something I said?" Lydia called after her older sister, but she did not receive an answer.

* * *

"I can't believe you talked me into this," Jane leaned over to her sister.

"Well, I can't believe I had to even talk you into this. I would have thought you'd leap at the chance to see Charles again."

"And I never thought you'd leap at the chance to see Darcy again."

Lizzy rolled her eyes.

"What's going on between you two?" Jane asked.

"Nothing," Lizzy replied.

"Oh, so you just packed up a box of stuff in a hurry and decided to just get up and go to New York."

"Yeah, it'll be a refreshing change."

"I don't believe you."

"Well I believe me, so that's all that matters."

"Be careful Lizzy. I think you may be a little involved than you even know yourself."

"Jane, if I wanted a psychologist, I would ask you, but I really don't need one. Thank you, though."

"Lizzy, oh, Lizzy," Jane sighed.

"Stop it. Let's talk about something else."

"There's nothing else I'd rather talk about."

"We're here, okay? So ring the door bell."

"Why don't you? After all, this whole thing was your idea."

"And you went along with it."

Jane sighed and rang the doorbell. It took all of one second for the door to open.

"Jane!" Mr. Bingley exclaimed, embracing her. She smiled against his shoulder and murmured his name into his ear.

"It's so good to see you again, Charles," Lizzy coughed and smiled.

"Oh, hi there Lizzy. I didn't see you there, not that you—"

"It's quite all right Charles. Listen, before I leave you two to it, I was just wondering if you could help me find a place."

"To stay? You could stay here. We have plenty of room, and it wouldn't be any trouble, really," Mr. Bingley grinned.

"Thank you for the offer, Charles, but I'm not just looking for a place to stay, but a place to live."

"Oh, so you're back?"

Lizzy nodded excitedly.

"That's great! Then it will be easier coordinating our work. I'm so glad that you're back. I know a great realtor. I'll give you her number."

"Perfect."

* * *

"Wow, when Mr. Bingley called me about a friend looking for an apartment, I didn't realize it would be you."

Lizzy laughed. "Well, it's not particularly unusual for an editor to be friends with his author."

"No, aren't you that girl?" the realtor asked.

"What girl?" Lizzy asked.

"The girl in the article, you know."

"No, I really don't. What's going on?" Lizzy asked, confused.

"Oh my gosh, you really don't know!"

"Know what?"

"Wait a second." The woman rifled through her purse and produced a magazine. She flipped it open to a page and handed it to Lizzy, who skimmed it quickly.

_Best-selling Home-wrecking Author Breaks Up Happy Couple_

_Elizabeth Bennet, New York Time best-selling author doesn't know when to stop. In fact, she is so unlikeable that even one of her own sisters was willing to expose one of her private journals to the public. In it, she chronicles her daily life in high school, when she dated multi-millionaire Fitzwilliam Darcy. She makes it quite clear in her own words "disliked" him, yet enjoyed it when he spent money on her. _

_A simple high school romance may not have been two serious, except she is one persistent gold digger. When she found out Fitzwilliam Darcy was to be engaged, she flew into a rage, and reinitiated contact with him, before finally managing to break up the happy couple by publishing lies in a friend's gossip magazine. Yet she feels no remorse for her actions, and even was as daring as to visit his own home barely after the breakup occurred. It is plain what her intentions were. _

_But it seems that Elizabeth Bennet is not the only one in the family with a propensity for lying. Her older sister is currently dating the wealthy Charles Bingley. With another two-faced opportunist in the family, it seems obvious what Jane Bennet's intentions are. And worst of all is the youngest sister, and example of the utmost impropriety. She ran away with her boyfriend of three months, who is currently in jail. _

_Maybe that's why she needs the money so much—to cover up her criminal activities, and those of her sisters. We can only hope that she will not ensnare poor Fitzwilliam in her snares. We extend our consolations to Fitzwilliam Darcy and his ex-fiancée, Anne de Bourgh, and on the behalf of all females who are indignant at the blatant dishonesty of Miss Elizabeth Bennet, we hope she will change her ways and do what's best for Fitzwilliam—leave him alone._

"What the hell?" Lizzy asked when she put down the article.

"Why'd you do it? He isn't going to marry you, you know."

"I'll have you know that you've just lost a very important client. And I would also advise you not to blindly accept the facts that you get from a magazine article. They are often distorted or completely untrue."

"So it's not true? Then why don't you tell me what really happened?"

"Thank you for your help. I'll be looking elsewhere for an apartment."

"Wait!" But Lizzy had already left.

In fact, as the day progressed, she was becoming even more frustrated as time went on. Where had the writers of that article even got her picture? And how had they gotten hold of her journal, or was it simply a lie?

She experienced a few more meetings like the one described above, and by the time she got back to Charles Bingley's apartment, she had already given up on explaining to everyone that the article was completely untrue. Instead, she had adopted a very simple strategy as follows:

"Hey, excuse me, aren't you Elizabeth Bennet?"

"Vat?"

"Elizabeth Bennet?"

"Sorry, Eengleesh bad."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. You look a lot like—nevermind. Sorry again!"

It might have been amusing on any other day, but the walk back home was really too long. And she wasn't sure what to expect when she got back to Bingley's apartment, so she simply pressed her ear to the door. She didn't hear anything, but that could mean any number of things.

"Gosh this is awkward," she muttered.

"I agree."

Lizzy whirled around.

"You!"

"I hardly expected to be so disrespected. You will refer to me as Lady de Bourgh in the future,"  
Lady Catherine sniffed with condescension.

"I'll do whatever the hell I want. It was you who put the article in the magazine!"

"And what of it?"

"How dare you violate my privacy. I thought you were a horrible woman, but little did I know, you are worse than dirt. I can't believe I even tried to follow your whims for your daughter and nephews' sake."

"I only have one nephew," Lady Catherine observed icily.

"And why is that? It's because you don't even have one friend, you don't even have a heart. And I may have made mistakes in my life, and I may have hurt people, but I have always been sorry for it and tried my best to atone."

"Insolent girl! Answer me, are you engaged to my nephew?"

Lizzy bit her lip, wishing that she could answer in the affirmative just to spite the old bat, but unfortunately, there was little chance of that ever happening at this point. She had better simply move on with her life.

"No," she admitted.

Lady Catherine smiled knowingly. "And then you promise that you will not become engaged with him in the future?"

"I will do no such thing," Lizzy answered.

"And why not?"

"Because you don't have the power to slander people or force them into or out of relationships they don't want. Clearly, neither your daughter nor your nephew wants to marry each other. Why can't you simply accept that?"

"Why? You have to ask _me_ why? I know more than anybody else how dangerous a relationship can be."

"So what makes you think I am dangerous?"

"You come from a family of no-good dirty whores, and that's all I need to know." She turned on her heels and walked away, her tall shoes clicking against the cement floor outside Charles's apartment.

The door opened slowly. "Lizzy?"

"Charles, did you know about this?" She pulled out the magazine article and handed it to him.

He glanced at it. "Yeah, I did. I was hoping you wouldn't find out though. Of course, we all know it's completely untrue. Don't worry about it. I'm pulling strings in the department. We can probably put together a lawsuit, and I know the perfect lawyer."

"Charles, you may make Jane happy, but if you say that your lawyer is going to be Fitzwilliam Darcy, I am going to kill you."

"Uh, so maybe I don't have the perfect lawyer. I'll let you know when I find one," he grinned sheepishly.

* * *

Anne de Bourgh swallowed nervously and tried not to squirm in her chair. She almost regretted turning down Richard's offer to accompany her. But this was a visit she had to make on her own.

Finally, she was sitting in front of the one man she had never expected to see in her life.

"So, Anne. What do you want? Did your mother send you?"

"No, Joseph. Listen, I need to know exactly what happened with you and mother."

"What, you want me to describe _everything_?"

Anne flushed. "Use your discretion."

"From what your mother's told everyone, I suppose you think I don't have any."

"Well, I'd still like to hear what you have to say for yourself."

"There's always a first time. Well, this is going to be a long wait."

"I have time."

"All right then. Your mother and I were in love, but I didn't love her for her money. I loved her for who she was. Needless to say, I hate the way she's turned out, and I feel horribly responsible. If I hadn't done—she might have been happy. What most people don't know is that I wasn't the one who killed her father, let alone the one who stole her family's possessions.

"Edward de Bourgh was the sort of man who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. And believe it or not, Catherine was beautiful in her heyday. We may have had feelings for each other, but she was young, and I was too, but on top of that, I was also penniless. Every day, I worried about how I could possibly make it so we could be together in the end. But it seemed impossible. However, I did my best. I worked hard. Nobody knew this, but I took jobs outside of the house, and I began talking to your grandfather, begging him to give me a chance. Of course, he wasn't an idiot. He knew what was going on. And despite his outside demeanor, he had a soft spot for his daughters. He told me that he was going to give me a chance to prove myself.

"Edward de Bourgh's arrival changed everything. He was rich, where I was not. But he wanted Cat—your mother—more than anything else. And I think it is evidence of your grandfather's generosity when he refused de Bourgh's request for her hand, saying that she was already in love. Of course, this didn't take very long for him to figure out.

"He sought me out and offered me a choice. I would relinquish my claim on Cat, push her away and end the relationship. The other option was to out our relationship, plunging her family into social ruin, which would not only hurt Cat and her parents, but also her younger sister, who was just beginning to develop a relationship with the late Mr. Darcy. She was lucky. She really cared for Mr. Darcy, and he was in an acceptable social position. In addition, he was in a position where he could financially ruin Cat's father. I would be too selfish to ruin everybody's happiness. After all, I owed the family a debt.

"I told Monsieur Gaspard de Rielle about my decision, and he would hear nothing of it, and he let de Bourgh know. In a rage, Edward de Bourgh shot Cat's father. I was offered another choice. I could take the fall for the murder and be imprisoned, or he would financially ruin the family, leaving Cat and her sister Anne destitute. If I were a richer man, I would have chosen the latter, but as I would be unable to provide for Cat.

"But there's something that no one has ever told you. I'm not sure Cat even wants to admit it to herself. Tell me your birthday, Anne."

Anne looked confused, which was partly because of the strange history he had just recounted, and partly because of the unexpected question.

"June 3rd," she answered.

"You do know that Catherine and Edward were married November the year before you were born right? That's a seven month difference. I was imprisoned in late September."

Anne bit her lip nervously. "What are you trying to say?"

"You're a smart girl, you'll figure it out, but I have to go."

Anne stared at him as he was led away. He turned one last time to look back at her, and Anne noted that his eyes looked tired, which she suspected was not just due to lack of sleep. His mouth twitched, hinting a smile, and then he was gone.

**A/N: So I was having this horrible thought this weekend that Lady Catherine is 64, yet her daughter is 20 something, 30 max, and she had her daughter when she was 18? Okay, so maybe I didn't think this through properly, but PRETEND LIKE IT MAKES SENSE, OKAY? Humo(u)r me! Anyway, I hate the beginning of this chapter, because I just couldn't start writing at all. I've been busy for one, and also I just didn't have anything to say. So now that I might have something to say, I'll do my best to update soon. **


	28. Changes

**A/N: So… is a new crappy chapter! I'm so sorry my chapters have been poor, but it's a struggle keeping on the schedule. I will try to keep up, but I kind of want to end it pretty soon. Let me guys know what you think—is it worth sticking around for, or should I bring this drama to a close? This is why the chapter is so short. **

Chapter 28: Changes

"What do you think?"

"I think it's perfect," Jane grinned. "It's so you."

Indeed it was. Only an apartment with so much wall space could have satisfied Lizzy's need for bookshelves as homes for all her books.

However, being on the upper east side of Manhattan, it was an inordinate amount to pay for an apartment, but it was so perfect. To find another apartment that overlooked the East river through one window, and had Central Park on the other side was incredible. What was perhaps her favorite part of the apartment was its proximity to a line of art museums, ones that she had missed for a while.

She sighed at the sunlight streaming in through the eastern window. It would be a beautiful sunrise, and the thought of waking up each day to sunshine seemed to make her fall even more in love with the place. Besides, she had tons of money (at least she thought so; she hadn't really bothered to check at all because it really had no importance to her on a day to day basis), and she was never going to use it if she didn't use it on a new home.

"I think so too, Janie. I can already see this as a home."

The realtor smiled nervously, aware that he would have to proceed very carefully in case he lost an interested customer, but his anxiety was ill-founded as Lizzy needed no further convincing to get the rest of the paperwork signed; she wanted everything to be settled so that she could move in as soon as possible.

The moving in process began almost immediately, but it went rather slowly. Lizzy had simply accumulated quite a few belongings, and getting them out of their boxes and finding new organizational strategies took a while, but eventually, she had the semblance of a homeless shelter that would suffice for the night: a bed with a mattress, but no sheets (she had not found the box for those yet) and a sofa arranged in the living room, not aligned straight because of the boxes around it. The kitchen had only an empty cardboard box and two stools, but it was only provisional.

It was four in the afternoon when Lizzy found something interesting among her luggage from England. It was the package Georgiana had slipped her hastily right before she had left. It had been forgotten in the front pocket while Lizzy had been occupied with her sister's situation. She carefully opened it, curious to see what was inside.

The packaging fell away to reveal three small blue books without any writing on the covers. When she opened the books, she found that they were the personal journals of Fitzwilliam Darcy. She snapped shut the books quickly, her heart pounding wildly. She leaned her head back against the wall. Why on earth had Georgiana given her these journals? They were so long ago and would only bring up things that she had long sought to forget.

Besides, now that everything was completely ruined, and she had realized her mistake it was too late. Everything was completely over and all those years of blindness and stupidity could never be won back. Even after she had realized this loss, she felt like she was almost capable of moving on. After all, she had a career, and she had a life. She had had her chance, and now it was time to move on.

She decided it would be best to put the books away and hand them back to Charles to return to Darcy. There need be no further action regarding Fitzwilliam Darcy. Yet, she still couldn't shake off her own desire to read the innermost thoughts of the man she still did not truly understand, the one whom she had misunderstood for so long, passing him off as an arrogant misanthrope when he was nothing of the sort, and that filled her with a bitter sort of regret at the ignorance of youth.

* * *

"Lizzy," Jane whispered.

"Yeah?" Lizzy asked, turning to look at her sister. They were sharing the makeshift bedroom that they had put together haphazardly. Lizzy was glad her sister was staying the night. It would be strange being alone with all of the boxes.

"Charles proposed."

"Proposed what?" Lizzy asked, confused.

"No, Lizzy, he _proposed_."

"Pro—o-oh, oh my gosh! Are you serious? Congratulations! Wait," she paused, giving Jane a sidelong glance, "you did say yes, right?"

"Of course I did. I'm really excited, but I feel really nervous too. I mean, was it too early to just say yes? I mean, we only just got back together. I feel like I'm just giving in."

"Jane, don't be so silly. You have to let go of your insecurities. You two are really meant to be. I can't imagine a world where you guys aren't together."

"I'm so happy, I really am, but I guess I'm just scared, and—" she paused, "I would be happier if I knew that you had found your equal happiness."

Lizzy laughed. "Jane, we are two very different people. I am perfectly content to live my live solo, but it would be a tragedy if you and Charles did not have a happy ending together."

"I guess. I just wish you the happiness you deserve."

Lizzy sighed, and the two sisters fell silent. Eventually, Jane drifted off to sleep, but Lizzy was awake for a very long time thinking about the journals.

* * *

_February 14, 1998_

_Another Valentine's day passes, and though I technically have a girlfriend, I have never felt so alone and cold in my life. I wonder what it is about me that she is so averse to. I would change and be anything she wanted me to be if only it would give me a chance, if only she could see past her pride and see me. I would do anything to be there for her always.

* * *

_

Lady Catherine de Bourgh pressed her thin lips together in unhappiness. She couldn't believe her plans had fallen apart so quickly. Anne fidgeted nervously. Richard noticed, and took her right hand, pressing it between his own. She gave him a quick smile, and Lady de Bourgh frowned even more. She would not accept that her daughter was now engaged to this… commoner! In fact, how dare he even presume to be worthy of her?

She had not given up hope for the union between her daughter and her sister's son. After all, this had all been planned so long ago. It was absurd that such a plan would be questioned now. Yet, here she sat with her daughter and a man who had neither name nor credit.

"Mother, can I talk to you alone?" Anne asked, glancing at Richard. He looked uncertainly at her, but left after she nodded.

"What is it?" Lady Catherine asked as soon as the interloper had left.

"Why didn't you tell me the truth?"

"About what?"

"You knew full well that when you married father that you were already pregnant."

It took a few moments for Lady Catherine to recover from her shock. "I don't know what you mean," she sniffed.

"You know perfectly what I meant, and I'll have you know that you were completely wrong about everything."

"Oh?" She arched a snooty eyebrow. "How so?"

"I visited Joseph."

Lady Catherine fell silent again. It was a few moments until she had regained her composure. She finally spoke. "Why would you do that?"

"I had to find out the truth. I know why you are so wary of Richard, and I'll have you know that he's different from Joseph. Besides, you've got Joseph all wrong."

Lady Catherine leaned back, and Anne began her narrative, recounting what Joseph had told her.

After she had finished the story, Lady Catherine had four words. "I don't believe it."

"You and I both know that there's a simple way to check for this."

Lady Catherine finally nodded, and she stood. Throughout her marriage, she and Edward de Bourgh had shared everything, except for one small box that he had kept to himself. She had never opened it, even after his death out of respect for his memory.

It was a plain box, uncharacteristic of the rest of the de Bourgh's possessions. It was carved with ebony, and had an insignia on the front clasp that was now worn off, as it had been part of the family for many years. With shaking fingers, Lady Catherine lifted the clasp and brought up the lid of the box.

She stared at its contents for a while, then turned her face away. Anne took her mother's hand lightly. Lady Catherine turned around, and Anne saw that her eyes were glistening with tears, and she felt the anger leave her like a deflating balloon, empty at last, just an empty shell.

**A/N: That was kind of bad hm. Ah well, it would really help if you let me know what you think. Thanks! **


	29. Moving Forward

**A/N: I feel like I have to clarify my last A/N, so read the A/N at the end of the chapter. Happy reading!**

Chapter 29: Moving Forward

Elizabeth Bennet sat with her hands folded on the table in front of her. Her feet were crossed under the table. She decided that if she were to rate the ten most awkward moments in her life, this one would probably make the list. Scratch that. Most definitely would make the list.

"So, uh…"

Lizzy rolled her eyes. "You already know all the details. There's nothing you have to ask me as my lawyer that would help you build a case."

Darcy smiled slightly across the oak table while crossing his arms loosely over his chest. "Can I ask you questions not as a lawyer, but as an ex-boyfriend?" he leaned in closer, and raised an eyebrow. Even across such a wide table, he was too close for comfort.

Lizzy winced and leaned back in her chair, and he smirked slightly as if he knew why. "I'd prefer if you didn't use that term."

"Why? No, don't answer yet," he held up a hand. "I, as your _lawyer_, could come up with an innumerable number of reasons why that would hold true. One, perhaps you would prefer ex-lover. No? Then my next suggestion is that you feel real guilt about the ordeal you put me through, and perhaps certain allegations may have been true?"

Lizzy stood up and turned away, her fists clenched. She closed her eyes tight for a moment, then thinking better of her actions, turned around and sat back down, pasting a smile on her face. "Of course, _Mr. Darcy_, I would like to thank you for the thoroughness of your work as a lawyer. To answer your question, I do not prefer the term because I'd prefer to keep our relationship purely professional."

A flash of disappointment passed through his expression, but passed so fast that Lizzy was not sure it had even been there. To tell the truth, she was a little embarrassed by the term and after so much recent drama, she was frankly too aware of him, which is why she had insisted to Charles that she was fine and didn't need a lawyer, let alone Darcy. However, Charles had insisted, perhaps even more vehemently, knowing that timing would be crucial if things were to happen as they should.

She wanted so desperately to get the whole thing over with, but obviously, Darcy did not have the same agenda. Something was different. He seemed more energetic, and more like the Darcy she had known in high school, the one who maybe she had been infatuated with for some amount of time, a _short_ amount of time, she insisted.

"So did you have feelings for this Fitzwilliam Darcy during your relationship with him?" he asked.

Lizzy swallowed nervously. "Don't you think it's a little ridiculous that you're arguing this case? Shouldn't that be illegal or something?"

"Please answer the question, Ms. Bennet."

"Okay fine. I did have a little obsession with the aforementioned person for a very short amount of time, really minute and even infinitesimal, I'd say. Maybe like 3 hours or something. Or like 2 days. Maximum."

A little grin slid over Darcy's face, then faded off just as quickly as he resumed his mask of professionalism.

"And regarding the engagement? Were you responsible?" he questioned.

"Yes," she admitted, "but only at the behest of Anne."

"And you claim to have no personal agenda in the matter?"

"I don't just claim, I didn't have any personal agenda in the matter," she insisted.

"And everything you have told me is true?"

"Why would I lie?" she snapped.

"Touchy," he commented. "Well, then, I suppose that will be all for now. I will be in touch soon since you seem to be in such ill humor right now."

Lizzy didn't respond, and Darcy let himself out of the apartment. It was ten more minutes before Lizzy realized that she had forgotten to give the journals back. She had meant to, but she had forgotten, and now she would have to find another time to do it. She sighed and flopped on the sofa, hugging the cushion close to her.

Maybe she should read the journals after all. It wasn't like it would make him any easier to understand. What was he thinking right now? Why had he asked so many questions that he surely already knew the answers too? Was she so unworthy that it was amusing to him to torture her? Lizzy groaned into her pillow.

* * *

"This doesn't mean anything," Lady Catherine finally said, turning back to her daughter.

Anne stared at her mother in shock without saying anything. Finally, brushing her hair back with her hand, she managed to speak. "I can't believe you. I really can't even imagine how screwed up you are. Here I was thinking that this would be enough, and that you would realize that all your stupid prejudices and arrogant pride were all useless, but you are just the same as you've ever been. I'm glad that I turned out nothing like you. I'm glad that I'm going to be marrying the man I love, and I won't regret it, just like you probably regretted marrying Edward de Bourgh."

"I don't regret anything," Lady Catherine hissed. "You still don't understand, do you? You were born in this family. You have a duty to fulfill. You have expectations to uphold. You're the silly one. Come back to your senses and we can still salvage this wreck."

"No, the only wreck that we can't salvage is you. Besides, being an illegitimate child anyway, I've probably disgraced the family enough." Anne turned around and stalked out of the room. She found Richard milling around the hallway aimlessly and grabbed his arm.

"Richard, we're leaving right now," she told him, pulling him as she walked.

"So did you—"

"No, we're just leaving. I'm sick of trying to reason with her. There is something terribly, terribly wrong with that woman, and I am at my patient's end."

Lady Catherine had followed her daughter out into the hallway and stared desperately at her retreating form.

"Wait, Anne, you're making a mistake! You don't understand. Please, please, I'm begging you!"

Anne stopped, and jerked Richard along in the process. "No, you're the one who should understand. I thought you would, having gone through something similar when you were younger. Unfortunately, you are simply the greatest disappointment of my life. At least my father had the courage to sacrifice something for the person whom he loved. You, you're just pathetic and weak, spoiled and indulged by your family's wealth. That is not who I want to be. So thanks for nothing, and don't bother trying to contact me in the future. Oh, and if you want to do me a final favor, retract your lies about Lizzy. She doesn't deserve to be caught up in these politics."

Lady Catherine gazed after her daughter, knowing that it was probably the last time she would ever see her. Richard glanced back one more time with an inscrutable expression before turning his back on her forever. She returned to her room and sat down, running a hand over her face. She had lost this battle. Her daughter was simply too stubborn to listen to sense. But it wasn't the end. Lady Catherine de Bourgh was not one to give up, and even if she had perhaps lost this one battle, there was always the hope of her legitimate nephew. He must not, under any circumstances, marry that hussy: Elizabeth Bennet.

* * *

Lizzy sat stock-still on the couch, having put aside the blue journals. She had, in the end, not been able to overcome her temptation to read the books, and now she didn't know what to make of them. Given that they were written by a high school boy, of course some rather inappropriate things were written about her. However, given his young age at the time, she was surprised at the profundity of his words, and particularly of his feelings for her.

She was deeply flattered that she could have captured his attention like that, even for a time. And perhaps that was enough, it was maybe all she could hope for from such a great man, the leader of a company, a worldly man of both wealth and breeding. It suddenly hit her how unsuited they were to each other.

She was also surprised about his intellect. She had always known that he was smart—he wasn't the best at concealing his virtues, nor did he really make any attempt to do so in his youth. However, when he wasn't writing about her, he was writing his thoughts, and Lizzy found them to be mature beyond his age. If she had known all of this at the time, she might have admired him a little more, and might have realized how much he had condescended to ask for her.

Slowly, slowly, her regret was fading away, replaced instead by gratitude for everything he had done for her. Moreover, having thought about the situation so much, she was suddenly struck by inspiration, and she sat down in front of her computer. For the first time in a long time, she sat down to type uninterrupted with feverish fevers, hardly noticing when the sun had slipped far beneath the horizon.

* * *

Darcy nearly dropped his coffee as his phone rang in his pocket. He gently put down his coffee and picked up his phone. Glancing at caller ID, he noted that it was not Lizzy, but rather Charles Bingley. He didn't know rather to be disappointed or relieved.

"Hello?"

"Darce, I'm worried."

"About what?" Darcy shifted to lean back into his office chair.

"Nobody's heard for Lizzy for a good two days. Every time we call, we get her voicemail, and she apparently hasn't installed her landline yet."

"Well, why doesn't Jane go see her?" Darcy asked, picking up his coffee again and taking a sip.

"Um, about that…" Charles paused sheepishly, "we're not in town right now."

"Oh?" Darcy raised an eyebrow, but he couldn't prevent the corner of his mouth from twitching up as well. "I take it that things are going well?"

"Yes, the vacation was a good idea, and Jane is absolutely amazing as always. We're so happy, but we're also both worried for Lizzy. Would you please go check on her?"

Darcy considered the proposition for a moment and almost wanted to refuse, but instead, he told his friend that he would be happy to go check on Lizzy.

"Thanks so much, Darce. You're the best," Charles laughed.

"No problem. I'll let you know if there's a problem."

"All right, talk to you later."

Darcy hung up and slipped his phone back into his pocket. He downed the last of the coffee and dropped the cup in the trash on his way out.

He first went to a small deli two blocks from Lizzy's new apartment to pick up some food. If he knew Elizabeth Bennet at all, she was probably writing right now and living on caffeine. It would be good for her to have some real food. Honestly, couldn't she simply take care of herself properly? She seemed always to need someone to mop up her messes.

Carrying the paper bag in his left hand, he nodded to the doorman as he walked into the building. When he finally got to Lizzy's door, he knocked three times in succession. There was no response, which didn't necessarily mean anything, Darcy told himself. It was likely that nothing was wrong, and that she was simply not paying enough attention to notice that someone was at the door, so he knocked again, louder this time.

It was a few long moments before she shouted out from inside, "I'm busy, go away. I don't want to buy anything."

Darcy covered his mouth as he began to laugh slightly. "I'm not here to sell anything, my dear. Just open up."

There was a considerable pause. Finally, the door opened, and there was Lizzy with her reading glasses and her hair carelessly up in a bun. Certainly, she exuded laziness, Darcy noted as he raked his gaze over her figure, diminished by the large sweatshirt and pajama bottoms she was clothed in. Yes, she had had more attractive moments, but none of that really mattered to him as he found her quite adorable, despite her careless appearance.

"What other questions did you have?" she asked.

"I didn't come here as your lawyer. I brought you food," he held up the bag with a grin.

"Come in," she sighed and retreated from the door.

"Hungry?" he asked, closing the door behind him.

"Starving, actually. How did you know?" she glanced at him as she pulled out a seat at the kitchen table, which was covered with a variety of handwritten pages surrounding her laptop. She rapidly pushed most of the loose pages into a single pile to clear up space for the lawyer.

"Charlie called me because he and Jane are worried about you. They haven't heard from you for a while," he took a seat, placing the bag on the table.

"Well, I called Jane yester—what day is it?"

"It's Thursday," Darcy smiled slightly.

"Oh. Well you still haven't told me how you knew I would be hungry," Lizzy took the bag absently, opening it and pulling out its contents.

"Please, Lizzy, what else would you be doing besides writing?"

Lizzy smiled slightly. "Right. Well, which one of these is yours?" she asked, holding up the two sandwiches in the bag.

"I already ate," he replied. "They're both yours."

She looked up at him. "Thanks." She looked surprised.

"So what are you working on?" He asked, while she unwrapped the sandwich.

"I'm not really sure," she admitted after taking her first bite. "I guess it's sort of a side project. Maybe it'll only be a short story, but it's about this girl who for the longest time had exactly what she wanted, though she didn't realize it. But upon losing it, she discovers what she has lost, and moving on from the loss, she proceeds to become a successful individual, never forgetting what she had. It's all very vague right now because I haven't figured out the specifics, but I like it. It's been calming to write it down."

Darcy smiled. "It sounds interesting. Good luck!"

"Are you sure you don't want the other one? I feel bad," Lizzy held out the other sandwich out to him."

"No, really, I'm fine. I'm sure you haven't eaten in a while. I'll just go now. Make sure to take care of yourself."

"Wait," Lizzy stood up, and grabbed his wrist.

He turned around, and Lizzy let go of him, embarrassed. "I haven't thanked you yet."

"I think you did already. Really, it's no problem."

"No, it's about Lydia. I know what you did for her. I know she's ridiculous, and I know how much you hate Wickham, so it means a lot to me that you did all of that for her."

Darcy smiled bitterly. "I didn't do it for her, I did it for you."

Lizzy stared at him as he left, and she didn't move for several seconds after the door had shut. Was she wrong after all?

**A/N: So, I think some of you misinterpreted my last A/N. I didn't mean that I would BAMBAM finish the story up, but bring it to a gradual close, rather than drag it out for another plot turn or so. I will stick with this story until the end, but I feel like it's already winding down to a close. I mean, I could make more stuff up, but I did feel like it was coming to a close. However, I have been encouraged by your kind comments, so thank you. I may continue it for a little while yet, but I have envisioned Lizzy and Darcy getting together very, very soon. However, the question is whether I should extend story beyond their getting together. I think I will though. So thank you all, and let me know your thoughts in a review. **

**Also, hooray for over 100k words! **


	30. The Apartment

**A/N: All I have to say is that I think you will be happy :D **

Chapter 30: The Apartment

Darcy exhaled as he leaned his back against apartment 4D. His wrist still tingled where she had touched him. This was dangerous. He had promised himself that he would keep himself from getting hurt again, but his resolve was apparently so weak that it was easily swayed by the object of his desires.

It had been so, so long since he had allowed himself to feel hope for this part of his life to be complete. But perhaps it was too late for this kind of thing to happen. After all, fairy tales weren't reality, as much as he might have wished it. He hurried home, not even bothering to take a taxi, something he might have normally done, not wanting to get his clean shoes dusty from the streets of the city. However, today, he was too wrapped up in his own thoughts, hardly paying attention when someone slipped his wallet out of his pocket in the subway station.

When Darcy walked out of the subway station, he breathed in the fresh air, and felt his head clear a little. He was still so confused about everything. He walked for two blocks and stepped through the doors, nodding once to the doorman, who smiled and tipped his hat at the absent-minded lawyer, who passed through the front foyer without a word.

Conveniently, the elevator opened and another person stepped out, Darcy hurried in and pressed the button to his floor. The doors "ping-ed" and he stepped out again.

Standing in front of his own door, he reached into his back pocket to take out his keys. He paused, his fingers groping at nothing. In panic, he checked the other pocket, then the front two pockets, which were empty save for a little bit of pocket change. He had been sure he had brought his wallet out of Lizzy's apartment, which left only one answer: it had been stolen off his very body. He leaned his head against the door.

How could he, a seasoned New Yorker by now, have failed to notice something like that? His own wallet had been taken out of his pocket! He bashed his head several more times against the door. Then, knowing it was a hopeless cause, he banged on the door a few times, which of course, elicited no response. After all, fairy tales like talking doors and wardrobes and candle sticks with clocks were completely unrealistic, right?

In any case, he had no choice but to return to the lobby. There was nobody at the front desk, so he turned to Tim, the doorman. He walked across the carpet, feeling his feet sink into the red plush carpeting of the main hall.

"Is something wrong?" Tim asked.

"Yeah, my wallet got lifted," he explained sheepishly. "You wouldn't happen to have the keys to the building, would you?"

"Well where did you come from?" asked Tim.

"My friend's house," Darcy replied, sticking his hands awkwardly into his pockets.

"Well, couldn't you stay with him?" Tim suggested.

"Her," Darcy admitted, cringing slightly, knowing that comments would be made.

Tim snickered. "Even more reason to stay over. Even if _hypothetically_, I did have the keys, it would be totally immoral for me to give them to someone so _untrustworthy_, right? I have a job contract to uphold."

Darcy frowned, and muttered under his breath, "Damn you."

"What's that?" Tim asked, grinning.

"When I get the chance, I'm complaining about you to your boss," he muttered again, exiting through the door.

"Go get some," Tim shouted.

Darcy made only a rude hand gesture in return. He had no intention of going back to Lizzy's apartment. That would be so awkward. If only Chase were in town… and Darcy knew for a fact that Chase did not keep his keys under the mat like many other silly people. He could stay in a hote—except he suddenly remembered that he had no wallet, and therefore no money to his name, not even an ID to prove his identity. For all other people knew, he was simply another homeless bum trying to get a place to live.

There was always Central Park if worse came to worst, right? But then again, even in his greatest moments of desperation, Darcy knew that he would not resort to sleeping in the park. There was plenty of shady things going on at night, and besides, being so cultured and used to high-class living, he could not imagine the horror of a park bench. He would never, ever, ever go to Central Park.

While he was pacing in his contemplation, two people were sitting right in his apartment, laughing hysterically at what they had achieved.

* * *

A half hour more of no ideas found him sitting in Central Park as joggers ran by in the dimming light, sometimes with their dogs. He closed his eyes and leaned against the back of the park bench with his arms on either side of the support.

He must have sat there for at least half an hour in the growing chill of the evening.

"Darcy?" He might have been dreaming, but he shook himself awake. The voice had sounded soothingly familiar.

He opened his eyes and his heart leapt into his throat. Elizabeth Bennet was only two inches away from his face. Her hair was coming out of its loose ponytail, and one of her earbuds was loose as she leaned towards him curiously.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I'm locked out of my apartment," he answered reluctantly, knowing that Serendipity was not on his side. How could he possibly wean himself off her presence if it afforded itself everywhere he went?

"Did you leave your keys somewhere?" she asked, taking a seat next to him. He swallowed rather obviously before continuing.

"No, they were stolen with my wallet in the subway."

"That's too bad," Lizzy frowned. "Do you need a place to stay?"

There it was. There was that dreaded question. As much as Darcy wanted to jump up and scream, "Yes! YES! Please let me stay! In fact, let's make it extra cozy, and share a bed tonight." But he left those words die away on the tip of his tongue.

She seemed to sense his reluctance. "I mean, if you don't think my apartment's good enough, I can lend you—"

There was an easy way out, but he didn't want to take it. It would be rude, and he was always the perfect gentleman…

"No, thank you very much for the offer. I'm so sorry to impose," he said rather stiffly.

She looked confused, and stood up as well, mirroring his movement. "I mean, if you really prefer not to, then—"

"It's fine," he gave her a brief forced smile knowing that this was the end of any determination to prevent himself from wanting her. This was the Joshua's horn to Jericho's walls. "I'm sorry to have disturbed your run." She was clearly out on a run, possibly to clear her mind in the fresh evening air.

"It's perfectly all right," she returned a very forced smile. "I'll take you back."

When they had returned to the apartment, Lizzy told Darcy to "make himself at home," while she went to take a shower, due to feeling "disgusting." Darcy could hardly have disagreed more. In her absence, he started making dinner.

* * *

"Let's do it on the bed," he grinned playfully.

She swatted his shoulder. "No, ew! That's so gross!"

"Come on, it'll be fun!"

"You are so sick. I can't believe I even agreed to this."

"So now you have to follow through and go all the way."

"I never agreed to this!"

She crossed her arms tightly over her chest.

Richard grinned. He could not have found a better fiancée in the whole wide world to carry out their evil plan (Mission: Get-Darcy-the-happy-ending-he-deserves-to-spite-that-old-bat). If only she would have been more willing to take risks…

"Let me see what he has in his wallet," Anne giggled, taking the item from Richard. She opened it, and flipped through Darcy's numerous cards quickly. There was nothing really of note.

Richard glanced over her shoulder. "He doesn't even have any condoms in there. What has he become? A priest?"

"Be nice, Rich," Anne reprimanded in mock seriousness. "Oh my goodness! Look at this!" She pulled out a small photo from a rather hidden pocket. It was a picture of Lizzy, but it seemed to be from her high school years. She flipped it over.

"_To D—hope you're happy now. –E"_

Richard made a face. "Did she go by 'Elizabeth' with him? Blegh. What awful formality. No wonder why he never got anywhere."

Anne pulled a stern face, "Hey, I told you to be nice."

"If I'm not, are you going to punish me?"

Anne blushed a deep crimson. "Rich! I'm starting to regret this engagement! We've already stolen his wallet; there's no need to tarnish the sanctity of the bedroom too." Richard snickered at this last phrase.

"I'm just teasing, pumpkin."

"I know," she muttered. Her ears were still red.

* * *

Lizzy stumbled into the kitchen, smiling at the wonderful smells drifting from the kitchen. She stood by the doorway and watched Darcy for a moment. He was tremendously skilled at using the culinary tools that she had bought but never used, her choice method of cooking being the microwave.

"You are amazing," she grinned.

He nearly dropped the spoon he was holding at the sound of her voice, but composing himself, he turned back to offer a warm smile to the woman standing in the doorway.

Her heart nearly stopped at this. She had grown accustomed to his formal twitches of the mouth to indicate acknowledgement, or even patronizing. It had been a while since she had seen such a genuine smile.

"Does cooking make you happy or something?" she grumbled, opening a cabinet to retrieve plates.

"Only in certain situations," he answered brightly, especially after certain unexpected good news via angry phone calls.

Lizzy was only mildly surprised to see how easily he fit into her home. He handled everything with a grace she had never been able to manage, yet also with a casual sense of familiarity with his surroundings. How did he do it? Perhaps he was just good at blending in wherever he was.

She sighed quietly. She might as well enjoy this little fantasy while it lasted.

* * *

_ Excerpts from the Journal of Miss Elizabeth Bennet_

_The Week of Horror_

_Day 1:_

I honestly don't think I can stand this much longer. His very presence is driving me insane. It's only been maybe 3 hours since he's been here, and I cannot write, I cannot read, I cannot even think because of the million things that are bouncing around my head. He is seriously disturbing the peace. Big time.

Not that I wish he would go, no by no means. However, I don't understand why I still get so flustered after everything. I mean, we used to go out, right? Granted, it was only a high school fling that fell flat, but still. I should be all comfortable with him already, right? I've known him for 10 years, for goodness's sake, get a grip on yourself, Elizabeth Bennet!

I don't think I'm making much sense at all. But he cooked dinner tonight, and it was amazing. If only he—no, not he, but someone of his abilities—were here every day, I would probably gain so much weight. Maybe it's best he weren't here after all. Hmm.

And because this is my journal, I will indulge myself with one confession tonight to calm my nerves (my goodness, I'm starting to sound like my mother!). For one second—let me clarify by saying it was the single teensiest most miniscule second you could ever imagine, I may possibly (very small probability) have indulged myself in the fantasy of a home life like this, us sitting down to a lovely dinner, sipping a small glass of wine during the meal, with easy conversation flowing between us.

But let me clarify and _emphasize_ that it is a girlish fantasy of a single second! I do not intend on carrying it through. For tonight, I say good riddance to Darcy. I will do my best to sleep. He will probably be gone tomorrow.

_Day 2:_

Still not gone. I am slowly melting away. I swear, I can feel my very spirit leaking away out of my mouth. If this goes on any longer, I swear to you, journal, I will move out of this apartment. Knowing he is on the other side of the wall is the strangest feeling.

I can't stop thinking about it, and I get agitated and restless, though I don't know why. Okay, I do know why, but let's conveniently pretend I don't, and I just have some anxiety disorder, or maybe insomnia. Maybe I have insomnia? I don't know, it's possible.

I'm back. I've just checked symptoms for insomnia on WebMD. I think that it's quite possible, in fact even, I Darcy—that is "I daresay" (disregard that careless slip of the pen)—quite _probable _that I do have insomnia, so my nerves (I must be getting old, especially with all these distracted parenthetical statements…) are in a state because of lack of sleep. Everything can be attributed to excitement at finding a new idea to write about.

But why is it that I find it so hard to write now? Gosh, this is starting to sound like a high school diary. I can't believe I've mentally regressed. Something is terribly, terribly wrong.

_Day 3:_

Take the phrase "terrible, terribly wrong" and add about two million "terrible"s. WHY IN GOD'S NAME IS HE STILL NOT GONE? I can't stop thinking about it. I am so conscious of the fact. I even went out to the library so that I could escape him, but I couldn't stay out forever. And besides, I couldn't focus on reading, not even my favorite books.

He is becoming increasingly an intruder in my work habits. There needs to be a way to resolve this issue. Besides, he's being very strange recently. I caught him staring at me inexplicably a few times now! Whenever I see it in my peripheral vision, I always turn to stare right back at him, hoping he'll back off. Instead, he simply grins, and _keeps going_. WHAT IS HAPPENING? Am I going crazy? If I'm going crazy, please, please someone tell me so.

Not that anyone would… because nobody's reading this diary except me. I'm already the cat lady. Maybe this is the crazy part.

_Day 4:_

I wonder if Fitzwilliam Darcy ever heard of the concept of "personal bubbles," because he sure hasn't been very aware of mine. Since last week, it has extended from 1 foot (or 30.48 cm—I can't stop!) to about 6 feet (do the math yourself this time). I am so very aware of him, and I hate it. Why can't I just be normal and breathe like a real person. I'm going to run out of brown paper bags to hyperventilate in at this rate.

_Day 5: _

Still not gone.

_Day 6:_

Need I say more?

_Day 7:_

I don't even know what just happened. I must be dreaming. Or crazy. Or both. They're probably both right. You all probably think I'm a complete looney person now.

Okay, deep breath…

HE KISSED ME! I don't even understand what happened (and I'm tired of writing exclamation marks. They're so laborious, you know? You have to dot all the bottoms). But one second, we were talking about greed and fixation on money by contemporary mainstream authors on the couch, still 3 feet away, mind you. For him, it must have been 91.92 cm away. Then bam! I don't even know what happened between those two instances. Something happened. I admit that I may have been distracted by his eyes. They're so blue, you know? No you don't, what I am I even doing?

The strangest part isn't even that (nor the fact that I kissed him back). It's that he simply got up, and said "good night," then went to bed. What?

* * *

"Good morning," Darcy smiled as Lizzy took a seat at the table.

"You look well-rested," she pointed out, slightly bitterly. He repressed a grin at seeing the dark circles under her eyes. Evidently she had been bothered about what happened the night before. He waited for her to make a reference to it, but she said nothing of the sort.

He stepped up behind her whispered in her ear, "What did you think about last night?"

"What did I—oh that, hahaha. You mean our discussion on authors? I personally would never want to become one of those authors who lose—"

Her words were swallowed by his lips momentarily, and her mouth moved against his for 4 seconds before she broke off. "But why—"

Her words fell on his unrelenting mouth, and this time, she simply gave in.

It was a while before they realized that their coffee had gone cold, and by that time, they had migrated all the way over to the pantry door. With her back against the door, Lizzy finally asked her question.

"I don't understand—why all of this?"

"You seem to understand perfectly well," he smiled. "You see, I like you quite a bit, and from the past," he glanced at his watch, "ten minutes, you like me quite a bit too."

"No, but I was just confused—"

"Shall I make it clearer for you?" he asked, his eyes opening wide.

"Stop confusing me. How did this happen all of a sudden?"

"All of a sudden? Why, my dear, we've built this _grande passion_ up for ten years. Don't try to tell me that this came out of the blue."

"But I thought—"

"Obviously you were wrong," he smiled, leaning in closer.

"But just a while ago—Lydia… gossip… Anne…" was all she could manage to get out between delicious distractions.

"Mm? What about them?"

"I thought you didn't—"

"I thought you were supposed to be a better judge of character. You told me so when we met."

"Then," she put her hands on his shoulder so that she could see him eye to eye, "you've liked me for all this time?"

"Come now," he gave her a lopsided grin, "let's not be so juvenile. I've _loved _you for all this time, and it's only because that old bag I have for an aunt that finally allowed me to breathe with hope again."

"How is that?"

"She called to tell me the answer you gave to her demands."

"I—sorry—"

"No, I believe it is us who will be sending her a thank you for finally throwing us together."

"But you don't know that I—"

"I don't know, my dear, I am absolutely certain. You have made me the happiest man to walk this earth. I could ask for nothing more. If you had no intention of marrying me, you would have immediately agreed to her ridiculous demands. However, your refusal gave me some hope, and now it's clear to see that we are finally where we belong."

Lizzy paused to smile. "You knew even before I was even sure of myself."

"You don't give me enough credit."

She smiled as she leaned in for another kiss.

**A/N: WAHAHA I'M SO PRODUCTIVE TODAY. If only my NaNoWriMos were this good. Maybe it's because the inordinate amount of whipped cream I consumed this afternoon. It's almost midnight, and I haven't started my homework because I love writing so much hahaha. I can't believe I'm going fangirl on my own story. This is so embarrassing. Hopefully, it doesn't show too much in the chapter... it probably does. Leave me a nice (or critical) review! I know some of you might hate it for being so sudden and BA-BAM, but Darcy and Lizzy are very impetuous people sometimes, but I hope you love it. **


	31. The End

**A/N: Don't be mad at me. **

Chapter 31: The End

"What do you reckon they're doing in there," Anne muttered, pressing an ear to the door.

"Sex," Richard answered immediately.

Anne punched him lightly in the arm. "You're so dirty."

"Come on, they've been in there for a week now. If something hasn't happened yet, they must both be asexual or something."

"Don't hold everyone to your standards."

"Let's just leave the keys in the mailbox on the way out. They're not coming out for a while."

"Good idea."

* * *

_January 10__th__, 1997_

_Seeing all the girls at the school tripping over themselves to impress Fitzwilliam Darcy, I have concluded that I will never, ever, ever become as ridiculous as they are. I mean, why try so hard to impress a guy? Why waste your own potential on someone else?_

_Besides, even if I were to fall in love, Fitzwilliam Darcy is the last man I would ever consider._

* * *

Indeed, Lizzy and Darcy were comfortable where they were and didn't intend on moving any time soon. They were lying on the sofa where they had been watching Casablanca the night before.

"What time is it," Lizzy murmured against Darcy's chest.

He smiled against her hair. "Ten in the morning."

"So late?"

"Do you have somewhere to go?"

"Not really." She smiled and snuggled closer.

"Lizzy?"

"Mm?"

"I love you."

There was a pause, during which Darcy held his breath. He felt suddenly vulnerable and exposed. If he was wrong, and she felt nothing, then…

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"What?" he blinked slowly at her frown.

"I—" Lizzy got up slowly. "I can't do this. I have to go." She stood up and walked out the door.

Darcy watched her go, knowing that he would never see her again.

**A/N: The end. **

**Thanks so much for reading guys. I just have one last thing to tell you guys, and that this was an April Fools prank. Don't kill me. Sorry I'm laughing too hard right now, imagining the looks on all of your faces. Yes, it was cruel. Well anyways, commence the **_**real **_**story!**

* * *

If he was wrong, and she felt nothing, then…

"I love you too."

He blinked slowly. "Really?"

Lizzy laughed and pressed a kiss to his cheek, whispering in his ear, "Do you doubt me?"

"No, but I'm just—it's—it's been ten years since I've loved you, and this is all so new. I feel like we are on unequal ground. I'm just—I'm so afraid of losing you," he finished lamely, gazing into her eyes shyly.

She smiled. "You're so cute," she commented.

"What, is that all you have to say for yourself?"

"Dar—William? No, that's weird. _Will_, I'll have you know that you are the kind of man that is hard for a girl to fall out of love with. Once she's been caught, it's impossible to leave. In fact, this whole business would have happened a lot sooner were it not all the misconceptions and misunderstandings we developed between the two of us.

"Honestly, in high school, you were about the hottest guy a girl could ever hope to lay her eyes on, and admittedly, I was a little entranced. But after you opened your mouth, I grew to hate you without even knowing anything about you. And to be completely honest, I think that most of it is my fault for believing all the lies I heard about you rather than looking at the you that I saw right in front of me.

"Then it got to a point that I couldn't believe I had had you by my side the whole time and failed to realize who you really were. And you were right, that I was a terrible, poor judge of character, and for that, I lost a lot of time for the both of us."

"Lizzy," Darcy murmured. "Don't regret anything. We're together, and that's all that matters. Things worked out the way they should have, and perhaps it's for the better that we developed as individuals before partners. It's not like we're old or anything."

"You know, Will, I never thought that I would ever be with you. You want to know a secret?"

"That depends on what the secret is," he grinned.

"When I was in high school, before we were even dating, I made a vow to myself that I would never, ever fall for you."

"What happened," he smirked, "did you lose your resolve?"

"I wouldn't push anything right now," Lizzy said. "You said yourself, we're on uneven ground."

"That's right," he said, suddenly flipping her over so that she was pinned against the sofa cushions. "I am a man that makes it hard for women to fall out of love."

She smiled. "Ten years, Darcy. Ten years that you pined after me. It would really be too bad if—"

He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers, silencing her words.

"Lost your resolve?" Lizzy whispered as they paused to take a breath.

"I never really had any," he told her.

Their kisses had been tentative at first, shy and awkward, just like the first kisses of teenagers just falling in love. Now, gone was the hesitation, gone was the uncertainty because each knew how the other felt, and there was nothing holding them back now.

Lizzy felt him tug gently on her lower lip, and she smiled against his mouth as their tongues met in a collision of passion, each fighting for control over the other. Darcy was determined, but Lizzy was just as stubborn and unwilling to give up.

Suddenly, Lizzy felt a touch at her waist, under her shirt. She was surprised at first, but relaxed gently against his touch, and didn't even flinch when it slid upwards. It wasn't as if this was totally unexpected. After all, they were adults now. Yet, she still felt a little unprepared. After all, had she ever _really_ been in a serious relationship? High school didn't really count at all, and college and afterwards was merely a series of flings that lasted as long as her childhood goldfish had…

Their doorbell rang just as his hand crept up to toy with her bra strap. She broke off the kiss. "I have to go get it," she said.

"Do you have to?" he asked, nearly whining with a puppy dog face. She almost gave in, but she motioned for him to move.

Of course, he didn't. "Gerroff, you great big lump," she pushed him over, laughing.

"You're so mean," he pouted on the sofa, and Lizzy's heart melted. Had he always been this cute? Maybe she had simply not noticed it. What a shame… She left a lingering kiss on his cheek before walking off to get the front door.

She swung open the door still smiling, but it disappeared as soon as she saw who it was.

"Caroline," she raised an eyebrow, "it's good to see you."

"Enough with the chit-chat," Caroline breezed briskly past Lizzy into her own apartment. "Where is Darcy?"

"What do you want?" Darcy had come out of the living room and was not leaning against the wall.

"Oh goodie! You're here," she smiled, though it looked so pasted on her face that there was no doubt as to her falseness. "Listen, you have to come with me."

"And why would I do that?"

"Charlie's gone, and I'm supposed to take you to the hospital."

"Hospital?" he asked blankly.

"Georgiana—"

"What? Is she all right? What happened?" Darcy immediately leapt towards Caroline, shaking her by the shoulders.

"You'd better come with me. There's no time to waste," she replied, sensing the urgency of the situation.

Lizzy followed, her heart feeling heavy. After all, Georgiana was not just the little sister of her now significant other, but she felt like Georgiana was her own sister as well. They had grown closer, and she was just as concerned as Darcy was.

"You," Caroline pointed to Lizzy, "can't come."

"Why, that's ridiculous. I have just as much right to come as he does."

"Wrong, family only. Sluts don't count."

Darcy glared at Caroline. "You may be the one who can take me to the hospital right now, but don't you dare badmouth Lizzy. She's a hundred times, no a thousand times the woman you could ever be."

Caroline pursed her lips. "Very well. Let's go."

Darcy gave Lizzy once last glance as he left the door accompanied by Caroline Bingley. He mouthed the words, "I love you," to her, and she smiled weakly at him.

"I hope everything is all right," she called out, but the door had already shut.

Lizzy made her way back to the living room and sat down at the sofa that she has so recently been laying on with Darcy. What had even happened? Caroline hadn't even offered an explanation as to what had happened to Georgiana, why she was in the hospital, or even where she was.

In fact, now that Lizzy thought about it, why had it been Caroline to bring the news? Wouldn't Georgiana's school have called? Lizzy stood up in horror. In the panic of the moment, both of them had failed to see the illogic of the situation.

Unfortunately, by the time she had got the door open and ran out of the apartment complex, nobody was on the street outside except an elderly couple walking by. Lizzy sighed. Hopefully, Darcy would know what to do. But one could never know when Caroline Bingley was involved.

She walked back into the building very slowly, feeling defeated and betrayed. She stopped by to grab her mail before returning to her apartment. Inside the mail box, she found a wallet and keys. She picked them up curiously, and opened it. The familiar penetrating eyes graced the picture on the British driver's license she found inside.

She randomly opened the wallet up further, and something dropped out. She leaned down and picked it up. As she did so, she nearly dropped the small packet. It was a condom. On one side was taped a note.

"We're so proud of you. GO GET SOME!" It read. Underneath, "A and R."

"Really?" Lizzy muttered to herself. Obviously, nothing was going to happen of that sort now that Caroline had moved in with a vulture plan of her own.

Lizzy had honestly never expected the hardships that came with a relationship. She knew that there would be opposition from his aunt, but she had thought Caroline was no longer a threat. She slipped back into her apartment, and sat down against the couch.

After ten minutes, she recovered herself slightly, and wandered to her laptop and began to write.

* * *

"Are you joking?" Darcy shouted.

Lady Catherine de Bourgh sat back in her chair, glaring at her nephew through her large sunglasses sitting on her nose. "I am perfectly serious. I will issue a public apology telling everyone how I was wrong… on the condition that you end things with that hussy."

"I refuse," he stated directly without any preamble.

"You do realize the implications of this?" Lady Catherine asked, removing her sunglasses from her face.

"Yes, but I sincerely doubt any legal team you could put together could make a convincing case to pull through. You know that whatever you do is futile, right? I'm not giving in to you. Elizabeth Bennet is the best thing that has ever happened to me, so you have absolutely no right to interfere."

Lady de Bourgh's lips curved up into a sneer. "Have it your way, but you'll soon come crawling back. I know you will."

Darcy left without another word. Imagine the nerve of this woman! Hiring Caroline Bingley to tell him that his sister had been in an accident just to bring him over for a discussion of no real value was absolutely ridiculous. Had she no moral standards at all? Honestly…

One thing he was absolutely sure of was that he would win the case, and he would destroy his aunt. He would wreck her reputation, just as she had wrecked Lizzy's and almost ruined his career. He was going to clear Lizzy's name because he had no reason to feel ashamed about being with her, and he was going to make sure things ran smoothly. He wasn't about to let happiness slip right through his fingers…

**A/N: Just a few more chapters (2?) I'm glad that most readers didn't think the last chapter was sudden. I was anticipating a great outcry, but apparently, you all agree with me. SO YAY. And yeah, this chapter was overly dramatic, but we're getting close to the end. So whatever. It's spring break and I don't care anymore :D:D Leave a review please? Let me know if there's anything that I might miss out in the end because I want to tie up all loose ends. **


	32. Trials and Tribulations

Chapter 32: Trials and Tribulations

**A/N: My dearest readers, I swear that I had a wonderful beginning written to this chapter… Then my computer died. And of course, feeling invincible, I did not save it. BOOOO. There went my motivation hahahha. **

"I've known Elizabeth Bennet for over a decade, and I am probably the only person who witnessed the beginnings of her relationship with Fitzwilliam Darcy. So I am the one most qualified to speak on the matter, and I can say definitively that she was never interested in the 'gold-digging' that she is accused of doing.

"Admittedly, their relationship was rather one-sided, but at no point did Lizzy try to conceal this fact. Darcy was fully aware of the fact that she was not interested, yet he pursued her anyway. At the time, we did discuss him a lot, and Lizzy made it quite clear that she was not at all interested or enchanted by his money, as many other girls were at the time. In fact, she scorned his wealth. Even while they were dating, Lizzy was embarrassed to receive gifts from Darcy because she felt that she did not deserve to be spent money on. In that regard, Lady de Bourgh's accusations are ridiculous. She has only made such a claim because of the—"

"Please stay relevant to the subject," the judge interrupted. Charlotte Collins scowled, but complied.

"In any case, Lizzy was not interested in money at the time, and now she is even less interested in it, as she has been able to make her own name by writing novels. Lizzy doesn't have and never has had a reason to be with anybody for their money. Anybody who knows Lizzy will find it impossible to call her mercenary. I just want to make sure everyone knows that because she is my best friend, and I can't stand it if anyone were to think poorly of her without reason."

Charlotte Collins took a seat as the judge thanked her for her testimony. Lizzy sent her friend a grateful smile. Charlotte smiled back, glad to be able to help.

"Objection, sir," Carl Johnson interrupted, standing up. Lady Catherine glanced at her lawyer, smiling. She had been able to hire the best of the best, and this time, she would not lose to her nephew's idiotic ideas.

"You will wait for your turn," the judge said. Lady Catherine frowned in annoyance before relaxing. They would have their time, and they would triumph. Even so, it was unacceptable that Collins had allowed his wife the liberty to speak thus. She had no place in this courtroom challenging the authority of people who knew better than her. Lady Catherine decided that she would have to find a way to make sure Collins realized his mistake.

Fitzwilliam Darcy stood up and took a step forward. He glanced back at Lizzy, who smiled back at him in encouragement. He returned her smile with a dazzling grin that made her flush slightly.

"As most of you know already, this suit pertains to libel regarding Elizabeth Bennet perpetrated by my aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. I would like to briefly emphasize that she in no way consulted me about what she published, and they in no way reflect my own beliefs. Everything Mrs. Collins has said was true. I was always the one chasing after Lizzy. Even with my family's wealth, she couldn't care less.

"It seems obvious to me that Lady de Bourgh's allegations are false, and I hope they are to all of you, too." Turning his head, he pointed out Lizzy to the observers in the courtroom. "That smile on her face is obviously not at the thought of all the money I have. Its explanation is very simply, actually. Even when she wanted nothing to do with me, she was always fascinated with my voice. Hearing me talk so much must make today the best day of her life." He smirked slightly at her embarrassment.

There were a few "aww"s in the crowd, though Lady Catherine was certainly not one of them. She frowned in disapproval. Carl Johnson looked unconvinced and reached across the table to scribble something in his notebook.

"Because the falsity of Lady de Bourgh's claims seems to be clear at this point, I will discuss what we wish to gain from this suit. Lady de Bourgh's defamation of Elizabeth Bennet has cost her a great deal of public image. She has had to suffer through facing the public's disapproval each time she has ventured out onto the street. Obviously, besides emotional suffering inflicted by this libel, her job has suffered with the sales of her books plummeting. Lady de Bourgh's libel has been damaging to her career, and for that, we are requesting $1.2 million to be awarded to the plaintiff."

Here, his speech turned into a mass of legal jargon that Lizzy had little interest in hearing. She tuned out his words, and simply watched his mouth move. Even if nothing happened because of the case, she would be satisfied because of the way he had defended her against the whole world and the way her friend had stepped up to restore her honor. She could not be happier than by having two people who she cared about say such wonderful words about her. It was really too bad that Jane was not here to see her triumph.

Darcy took his seat and slipped his hand into Lizzy's giving it a small squeeze. Lizzy smiled slightly.

"You did good," she told him.

"Well," he pointed out.

Not willing to admit she was wrong, she whispered back, "No, you're a superhero. You did good."

"Ah, I thought you were trying not to inflate my ego anymore," he smirked.

"I figure it's a lost cause."

They shared one last smile before sitting back to see what the defendant's lawyer had to say. Even with a limited understanding of the legal system, Lizzy could see quite clearly that his abilities as a lawyer were quite significantly worse than Darcy's, not that she was biased in any way. His logic seemed weak, and he managed to spend quite a lot of time saying nothing. Given the bored looks of the people in the courtroom, they apparently thought so too. She caught Richard's eye. He gave her a wink, and she rolled her eyes in response. They were going to have to have a discussion about what he and Anne had done…

In the end, there hadn't really been any question over who would win the case. Despite Lady Catherine's best self-assurances that she would prevail, she did not regain control over her nephew, and ended up losing quite a bit of money in the process, though the blow to her pride cut more than the monetary loss.

Afterwards, Lizzy invited all her friends out to eat, and they laughed about it over lunch. Afterwards, she managed to catch Richard and Anne as they were about to slip away.

"Hey guys," she said.

"Oh, hi there Lizzy! Good work today. I'm glad that things were put straight. We're going to go soon. I'm happy for you," Richard smiled.

"Wait a second," Lizzy growled. "I know what you guys did."

"What?" Anne asked with wide eyes.

"Cut the crap. I found what you left in my mailbox."

"Ah," Richard said rather awkwardly, "that was mostly meant for our dear cousin as a prank."

"Regardless," Lizzy continued, "thank you."

The two looked surprised. "You're not… angry?" Anne asked tentatively.

Lizzy laughed. "Why would I be? If it were not for you, this might not have happened for a really long time. So thank you so much for giving us both a nudge in the right direction, despite how annoying I found you at the time."

"Well, of course, it's all due to us that you've ended up where you are," Richard declared rather proudly.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Rich," Anne patted his arm, smiling.

"Well, I'll see you guys soon, I hope."

"Actually, it might not be for a while," Anne replied. "We're going back to England. I have some things I need to… take care of."

"Ah, well, let me know if you ever come back. I'd love to see you guys again."

"Of course, will do."

"Goodbye Lizzy!"

"Goodbye, and thank you again!"

They departed, and Lizzy felt Darcy come up behind her.

"Those two…" he muttered.

"But you can't help loving them," Lizzy smiled.

"Well, I'm glad everything has been sorted out. The look on Aunty's face!" He snickered. "Really priceless. Probably the most fun I've had in ages. Thanks."

"And thank you for reclaiming my honor," Lizzy dropped a light kiss on his cheek.

"That's all the thanks I get?" he asked, raising a playful eyebrow.

"Later," she whispered into his ear in a voice that sent a shiver up his spine. She grabbed his hand and dragged him along. "Come on, let's go to MoMA. I've been planning it all week."

So they spent a wonderful day at the museum, and no one who saw them could deny that they made the most perfect couple, arguing over whether Mondrian was a genius or a crazy person who probably had no artistic abilities. Each refused to give up his side of the argument, so in the end, they accomplished nothing except to find each other a little more attractive.

"Georgiana was so happy when she heard," Darcy told Lizzy over dinner. "She actually asked me when we were going to get married."

Lizzy laughed. "She's such a cutie."

Darcy hesitated before he asked his next question. "You… do want to get married right?" When Lizzy didn't respond, he added on quickly, "Not that I'm pressuring you or anything, I mean, if you don't want to I think I'd be okay with that, but if you did—"

While he was babbling, Lizzy had walked around the table and reached his lap. She silenced him wiath a gentle kiss. He relaxed and slipped an arm around her waist. When they came up for air, she murmured in his ear, "Eventually, yes."

He smiled, and their dinner remained untouched for the rest of the evening…

* * *

Darcy woke to smell of burning. His immediate instinct was that the house was burning down, and he leapt out of bed, yelling for Lizzy to wake up. She was gone. Panicking, he jumped into his boxers and ran down the stairs. On the way, he bumped into Lizzy.

"Quick, let's get out of the apartment," he grabbed her and pulled her down the stairs.

"Wait, Darcy, nothing's burning down."

He stopped.

"I'm sorry. I was trying to make pancakes for breakfast, but I got distracted, so uh, yeah," she finished lamely, looking slightly sheepish.

"I presume you got a new idea," he asked.

"Yeah," she grinned. He knew her too well.

"I'll help you clean up," he said.

"You're the best, Will."

He smiled at hearing the name. It was something he had never expected to hear given their history, and it felt so surreal to hear her pronouncing his given name now.

"Perhaps it's best if you don't attempt any potentially dangerous experiments in the future."

"Perhaps it's best if you don't attempt to run out of your house in your underwear," Lizzy pointed out his attire.

He grinned. "I thought you might enjoy it."

"I do, and so would the neighbors. But I think you might get a little cold."

"So would you," he pointed out. She had stolen one of his shirts and wasn't wearing pants, a fact that was deliciously distracting, particularly because the shirt was not one of his most opaque. He pulled her in close.

"Hands off, Darce. I have to get some real work done." She laughed at his tragic expression. "Stop it, you're terrible. I'm never going to get any work done."

"I wouldn't mind that," he commented, kissing her exposed collarbone.

"Nor would I, if I were not so incredibly behind."

"Fine," he caved in. "I probably have paperwork to do as well."

They sat peacefully in the house that day, each getting work done silently, comforted by each other's presence.

* * *

"Are you sure I should do this?" Anne asked nervously.

Richard nodded. "It's the right thing."

Anne nodded back, and licked her lips anxiously. "Okay." She pushed open the door.

**A/N: Here is where it gets late (I was actually going to get to sleep on time were it not for this haha), and I'm losing my patience after I had to retype half a chapter from memory. I lost some cool lines I think. Anyway, I know a lot of you probably wanted a better kissing scene, but I suck at those. Sorry if you're disappointed. I can't believe I just introduced something new that will take a bit to explain. But the end is looming near! It isn't a super plot twist hahaha. Just wrapping up loose ends. Leave a review :3?**


	33. Plots

**A/N: WARNING! Slightly mature elements in this chapter. Honestly, it's not too bad, but at least you've been warned if you have delicate sensibilities. Hopefully, this will satisfy your fangirl tendencies a bit :) **

****Chapter 33: Plots 

_Another Scandal Among the Wealthy_

_It seems that Lady Catherine de Bourgh has been in the news a lot for various scandals, and there has been yet another story about her affairs. New evidence has surfaced suggesting that she is guilty of obstruction of justice. _

_By now, most people know about her relationship with one Joseph Smith, before he was put in jail for murder. At the time, Lady Catherine testified staunchly that he was the culprit. However, it is clear now that he was not guilty for a crime, but rather the victim of a conspiracy, one that Lady Catherine took part in, knowing that she could do so with impunity both because of her own wealth, as well as Smith's love for her. _

_According to the authorities, a full investigation is underway, and if there is sufficient evidence, Lady Catherine could be prosecuted, and lose her prestige, though it has been steadily crumbling for several months now. _

_What is probably most shocking is that Joseph Smith is not the man everyone thought he was. While the authorities knew that his original name was not Joseph Smith, Smith asked his true name to be kept quiet. After all, his legal name had been changed already. It turns out that he was the second son of an Earl who was disinherited because he refused to carry on the family business with his elder brother. However, he is still written in his father's will, and with his elder brother's death, he stands now to inherit millions. _

_Had Lady Catherine known this thirty or forty years ago, she may not have made the same decisions that she did. One can only imagine the shame and regret she is feeling at the moment. _

As it turns out, Lady Catherine did indeed feel shame and regret. But what was past was past. The most overwhelming emotion she felt was anger. There were only three people who knew of the truth. One was herself, one was in jail, and one was roaming free with that bastard son who dared to take the family name.

She crumpled the paper in her hand. There were people responsible for this atrocity of publicity, and they would pay for it.

* * *

Darcy woke up smiling. After all, what was there not to be happy about when you woke up in the morning with the sun streaming in through the window and the love of your life lying beside you.

Lizzy Bennet awoke to a strange sensation. She found that her head was resting on a pillow not made of down. After all, it was warm, and not as soft. She smiled gently against Darcy's chest, which rose and fell gently with his breathing.

"You're awake?" he asked.

"No, I'm dreaming," she pressed lips to his collarbone. "I can feel your heart beating."

"It's yours now," he said simply.

Lizzy propped herself up with her elbow. "Were you always this cheesy, or was I too busy ignoring you to notice?"

"I can't help myself in your presence." He reached over and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear.

Lizzy snickered, and in response, Darcy leaned over, capturing her lips with his own. Lizzy pushed herself forward so that she was mostly on top of him, her hand resting gently against his abdomen. Her hand passed over his muscles in admiration. Meanwhile, the hand rested on the small of her back began to slide down over her buttocks and down her thighs.

Lizzy pulled away. "Will, as much as I enjoy where this is going, I do have a coffee date with Charlotte." She glanced at the clock. "Actually, you've already made me late by being so deliciously distracting."

"it's hardly my fault that you're so tempting," he argued.

"I can already see that this discussion is getting nowhere." She got up, wrapping the sheets around her body. Darcy had other ideas. As she got up, he grabbed the sheets, pulling them back to the bed, leaving her standing beside the bed, fully exposed.

"Hey!" she exclaimed.

"If you're going to be leaving me, then why not at least let me enjoy the view?" he produced the most adorable pouting face that she had ever seen in her entire life. It was so heart-melting that she almost fell over, but she steeled herself and simply rolled her eyes, turning around, and deliberately leaning down very slowly to pick up her clothes from the ground, where they had been thrown during last night's… festivities.

"Now you're just being deliberately cruel," he remarked.

"Believe it or not, you're incredibly attractive to me as well," she told him.

"Oh, really?" he quirked an eyebrow.

"Yes, so you should stop complaining."

"Can I get a kiss?"

"You're such a little kid," Lizzy sighed.

"That's only slightly awkward."

"No, I meant, how needy you are," she amended, leaning over the bed. He pulled her down, and attempted to unclasp her bra.

She laughed. "You're entirely incorrigible. I'm going to ignore you. I have to get going, anyway."

"I can't believe you're abandoning me for Charlotte."

"Well, she _is _the 'other woman' in this relationship," she joked.

"Don't joke about things like that. I get jealous easily," Darcy commented.

"Bye, darling. I'll see you soon," she blew a kiss at him as she ran out the room. She pulled her coat off the coat rack, and in one fluid motion, opened the door, slid out, and closed it, locking it behind her. She ran to the elevator, and pressed the button for the lobby several times, almost obsessively before the door finally closed.

She gave a wave to the doorman as she sprinted out the door. She glanced at her watch to check the time. If she ran, she could probably manage to be only ten minutes late, and so she did just that. Nobody was much surprised to see someone running frantically through the city streets, but she did manage to get several angry honks, as well as nearly knocking over a bicyclist, who shouted rather unoriginal insults at her back.

By the time she reached the coffee shop, she was breathing hard and her clothing looked less than put together. She took a brief moment outside the shop to smooth down her hair and shirt, fanning her face and taking deep breaths so that she didn't look like she had run all the way.

Not that this fooled Charlotte in the least. "Did you forget about me, or something?"

"No, of course not!"

"Were you being distracted by a specific sex _god_?"

"Uhm, no."

"That hesitation speaks volumes, you know." Charlotte grinned. "I'm so happy for you. If you knew how frustrated I've been for this long, you would appreciate my suffering. You guys are like a really bad soap opera that you are addicted to, yet so ashamed of being so into it."

"Well, I'm glad that I now cater to your fangirl tendencies."

"Thanks, I know you do it just for me."

"Of course, Charlotte, how did you possibly guess?"

"Anyway, I feel like I haven't seen you in forever," Charlotte said.

Lizzy smiled and sat down. "Things have been so crazy recently. There's been so much drama. But I'm glad we found time to meet up. How is Collins?"

"Nice of you to ask. I know that you didn't exactly approve—"

"It wasn't that I didn't approve, it was—"

"It's okay, Lizzy. I know what you mean. But honestly, he's getting better. I thought at first, like you did, that I was just settling. I knew that I was settling, but I really felt like I had no choice. Slowly, I've been trying to decrease his dependence on Lady Catherine, and it seems to do wonders for his personality. He has much more confidence and isn't as annoying anymore. I'm genuinely happy."

Lizzy grinned. "It looks like you really are in love with him. I'm very happy for you. Even if I may not have liked Collins when you married him, I will support you whatever you do."

"That means a lot to me, Lizzy."

They sipped their coffee for a while.

"Did you hear about Lady Catherine?" Charlotte asked.

"What about her?" Lizzy asked.

"She's under investigation," Charlotte explained.

"Really? For what?" Lizzy asked.

"Apparently, she hid vital evidence In an investigation, and she's under review right now. Collins helped put the story in the newspaper," Charlotte remarked proudly.

"Good for him," Lizzy nodded with approval.

"Anyway, it's the thirty some year old case, with Joseph Smith. Apparently, he didn't do it after all, but he was just the scapegoat for Sir de Bourgh, is my guess. And he probably coerced the Lady into playing along."

"I almost feel sorry for that old bat," Lizzy commented. Then she paused. "Nah, I take that back. She gave up love and her dignity for more wealth and titleow I HoH, and she's so afraid to lose all of it that she is a terrible mother and aunt. I don't see how she could have caused less trouble and pain to Anne, Darcy, and most of all, Richard."

"And that's not the worst part," Charlotte grinned. She leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, "It turns out, Joseph Smith wasn't just a poor butler. He was the second son of an earl, but he ran away to make his own name."

Lizzy stared at Charlotte in amazement for a moment, then burst out laughing. "That's poetic justice right there."

"So does this mean you'll be marrying Darcy any time soon?"

Lizzy's mouth twitched. "You'll see. I have an idea about that."

"I really want to punch you right now. You can't tell me that and then leave me hanging. That's so mean."

"I know. It's why I do it." She paused. "Do you remember when I couldn't stand Darcy? I thought he was the last person on earth I would ever even consider marrying. Now, I can't imagine a life without him. It's so bizarre to see how we've all grown as people, and how we've changed."

Charlotte nodded. "I'm glad things are working out as they should."

They made some more small talk, before Lizzy realized that she had to go.

"I'll call you about my idea later," Lizzy smiled.

"I can't wait," Charlotte smiled.

Lizzy grabbed her purse, swinging it onto her shoulder, and waved at Charlotte as she walked out of the store. She had a meeting with Charles Bingley concerning the publication of her new book. It would be released soon, and there were logistics to discuss.

She stepped into the office, and walked across the clean, shiny corporate floors of the building and made her way to the elevator. She pressed the button for the top floor. The doors slid open, and Lizzy stepped to the receptionist's desk.

"I'm here to see Char—Mr. Bingley," she told the woman sitting at the desk.

She raised an eyebrow in response. "Do you have an appointment?"

"Do I need one? After all, I am both his sister-in-law as well as his favorite author," she joked.

"My dear Lizzy, you're only one of those," she heard a voice behind her.

"You divorced dear Janie?" Lizzy gasped in shock.

Charles smiled. "Come with me. It's all right, Sharon." He led Lizzy into her office.

"So, how have you and Jane been? I've missed you both, and you both have missed a lot!"

"We had a lovely trip. I'm glad your name is cleared. From a publisher's point of view, it's a good time to release your new book, because you're still on the news. From a brother's point of view, Lady Catherine got what's been coming to her."

"Especially with the new investigation. Did you hear about that?" Lizzy asked.

"I did actually. I talked to Richard about it already. He and Anne just flew in from the UK, anticipating Lady Catherine's fury."

"Good idea, actually." Lizzy smiled. "Anyway, is everything on track for the release?"

"Yes. I've got your special copy printed too," he smirked.

"Ah, thank you. Can I see it?" Lizzy asked.

"Of course," he crossed over to his desk and opened the second drawer to pull out a book. He handed to Lizzy. "The press conference has also been scheduled for next week."

"Thanks, you're the best."

"Well, you are my sister-in-law," he smiled.

"And…?"

"You write novels that aren't half-bad," he admitted.

"Well, then. If that's how it's going to be—"

"Kidding, kidding. Of _course_, you're the most amazing authoress I've ever seen." Before Lizzy had a chance to respond, Charles's phone rang.

"I'll let you get that," she smiled. "Thanks a million, Charles Bingley. You're a good brother, and a good publisher."

"See you later, Lizzy!" As she walked out of the room, Charles took out his phone from his pocket.

"Hey Darcy. What's up?"

"Is everything ready?"

"Yeah, it'll be next week. Are _you_ ready?"

Darcy sighed nervously. "I think I am. After all, I've been waiting for this for my entire life."

Bingley laughed. "Definitely not your entire life. Don't exaggerate too much."

"Well, you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do. Lizzy's on her way home, by the way," Charles remarked.

"Thanks for letting me know, but are you going to tell me what her book is about? I can't get a single word out of her."

"As enticing as you are?" Charles teased drily. "That is a matter strictly between an author and her publisher."

"Fine, be like that."

"I will, don't you worry."

"Go home soon, Jane's probably waiting for you."

"As you're waiting for Lizzy?"

"Are you trying to imply something?"

"Not at all. I'll talk to you later," Charles smiled.

"Goodbye." Darcy pressed end call and leaned against the kitchen counter. It was time to get dinner started.

* * *

Lizzy came home to the delicious smell of dinner. She threw her keys onto the table, and strode into the kitchen, greeting Darcy with a gentle kiss. Darcy tossed his spatula on the table, and turned slightly, pinning Lizzy against the countertop with his hips. His hand slithered up her back to cradle her head as the other one rested comfortably on her hip.

Lizzy moved her lips, pressing small, tender kisses up his jawbone until they reached the back of his ear. She blew gently into his ear, and he gasped softly.

"I resent you for the decade that I missed out on all of this," he whispered into his ear.

"I'm almost sorry, too," she smiled. "Let's eat dinner."

"Dinner can wait," he growled into her ear.

**A/N: Oh la la. Sorry for the delay, I'm in the midst of AP season. POO POO. But I have an exciting thing coming up in the next chapter. Em has suggested that I end this story on her birthday, May 28****th****, 2011. And it actually might work out very well, depending on how long certain things take to sort out. **

**Leave me a review? :3**


	34. KnotTying

**A/N: Finally!**

Chapter 34: Knot-Tying

_June 15__th__ 2011_

"_The Decade_ is indeed a story spanning over ten years. It is a story of lost time, and terrible misjudgments and mistakes. It is told with numerous journal entries from two perspectives."

"Ms. Bennet, some have noticed the similarities, or even _parallels_, between this book and your own life. Some would even claim it is autobiographical. What do you have to say to such claims?"

Elizabeth Bennet smiled, and leaned into the microphone. "I shall say nothing to dispel their suspicions."

While the crowd murmured, she sought the gaze of one particular person standing in the multitude. He was smiling at her, and she grinned back at him.

"In any case, because this press conference is coming to a close, I thought I might like to give all of you an idea of what's in store. Rather than reading the beginning chapter, I would like to begin with the close."

She cleared her throat, and a hush fell upon the crowd.

"June 14th, 2011: Tomorrow is the big day, and reflecting back upon all the things I've undergone, I realize how incredible it is that things have worked in such a complex and long-winded way. I realize that I am 29 years old right now, and if the whole ordeal began when I was 16 years old, then I have spent nearly half of my life in this story.

"And now, something hugely momentous is about to happen. I know that it will be the beginning of a new chapter. Despite all the trouble I have gone through, I realize now that I don't give a damn about what anyone else thinks. Because this time is for me only. It is for me to make up for all the things I did wrong, and do what's right.

"I feel that my heart is so light, and I know that the path ahead will not be any easier than what I have already passed over, but I now have the strength to face it head on.

"Tomorrow is the big day. Why, might you ask? Tomorrow is the big day because I face a life ahead that is full of joy and challenges to overcome. Tomorrow is the big day because tomorrow—" Here, she looked up and sought Darcy's eyes one more time. "Today, I stand here and ask Fitzwilliam Darcy to marry me."

There were two seconds of shocked silence before the crowd gathered exploded in a flurry of excitement. Lizzy saw Jane and Charles smiling at her with encouragement. They pushed Darcy forward up towards the stage. He stumbled up the steps and crossed over to where Lizzy was standing.

"I really can't believe she beat me to this moment. She's always been incredibly competitive. I do believe I mentioned something similar barely two weeks ago, and I think she turned me down just so that she could ask." Lizzy smiled. "But you should all know that I was prepared, sort of." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black box.

Opening it, he presented the ring to Lizzy. "Yes, Elizabeth Bennet, I will marry you." She smiled, and flung her arms around his neck.

There was a thundering round of applause, followed by the chant, "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"

Because they were in a very obliging mood, their lips met in their first kiss as fiancés.

* * *

Lady Catherine de Bourgh stared open-mouthed at the small prison television. Her life was officially over. Everyone had abandoned her, and she realized how alone she felt. She had lost her family and followers. To top that off, the settlement that Joseph Smith had won had depleted her fortune. Even her pride was broken and bruised. Not even the other prisoners glanced at her twice.

The only thing she had left was her title, and that meant little to her now. She had made too many mistakes to get where she was now. Perhaps others would say that she deserved it, and maybe she did, but it didn't make her feel any better about her situation.

"Ma'am," the prison guard said outside her cell, knocking heavily on the door.

"Yes?" she looked up with dejected eyes.

"Someone's here to see you," he commented, unlocking the door. She felt humiliated as the handcuffs clicked resolutely on her wrists, and she was led outside.

She stared at the man on the other side of the glass.

"Joe?"

He smiled briefly. "I'm sorry," he said simply.

"Don't be," she muttered, her eyes sliding down to her hands. "It's all my own fault. I was too concerned with things that didn't matter."

"I know that you've done things that aren't necessarily who you are. I'm sorry that you were born where you were, and I know that you had so much potential. I've never stopped loving Cat, ever. To me, your real self is hidden away, deep down, because you thought she was too weak to face the 'real world,' the one that you were born into."

"Thank you."

"I just hope you know I have faith in you still," he said, getting up.

"Goodbye, Joseph," she whispered.

"Goodbye, Cat."

* * *

"Congratulations," Anne grinned.

"Thanks. You've been so supportive and wonderful," Lizzy smiled. "By the way, have you gone and talked to your mother at all?"

"I think I will have to eventually, but I'm not ready yet. I think that she may be realizing the weight of everything she's done, though. I don't think she can ever atone for everything she's done, nor do I think she really deserves it, but I can't deny that she is my mother, and I think I will have to forgive her anyway. But I have been talking a lot more to Joseph. I can't believe I spent so long not knowing him. He's a great guy, and I wish he had been a father to me as I grew up."

Lizzy enveloped Anne in a hug. "At least you have the chance to get to know him now."

Anne smiled after Lizzy released her. "Yeah, I'm glad for that at least. By the way, have you guys set a date for the wedding?"

"Not really, but I'm really excited. I can't believe it has taken so long. I would never have thought this would happen when I first met Darcy."

Anne chuckled. "He's an interesting person to get to know."

"But it was worth it in the end," Lizzy smiled happily.

"I should hope so," Darcy leaned into her ear. Lizzy jumped, and turned around.

"Don't surprise me like that! What if I got a heart attack?"

"Then I would resuscitate you. We can't have the bride-to-be dying anytime soon."

"Hey, I'll leave you guys to it," Anne smiled, holding out a hand in a gesture of goodbye.

"Thank you so much Anne. I'll see you later!" Lizzy smiled.

"Bye, dear cousin," Darcy waved. Turning back to Lizzy, he said, "Giana just called to say that she's just touched down."

"Let's go pick her up, then!" Lizzy exclaimed.

"Of course." Making their apologies for leaving the press conference early, they pushed their way out of the crowd. Darcy held open the door of his shiny black BMW for Lizzy, who stepped in gracefully.

"This car is so classy," she commented as he slid into the driver's seat.

"Really?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Will, I grew up driving an old beat up pickup truck. Almost anything is classy to me, but this is especially classy."

He shrugged, "I'll get you one if you want."

"No, it's okay. You can be classy for the both of us."

Darcy drove with only one hand, as his other was busy holding Lizzy's the entire ride. They sat in silence, but Lizzy had never felt more at ease with her head against the headrest as she had in her entire life. When they picked up Georgiana, they were met with a flurry of excitement and hugs.

"Lizzy! You're going to be my sister finally! You'll be my favorite sibling ever!" She stuck her tongue out at Darcy, who made a face in return.

"That's cool with me. I never really liked you anyway," he grinned.

She pouted adorably. "Obviously, that's not true, so I can't take you very seriously, Will." She turned back to Lizzy. "Hey Lizzy! Can I be a bridesmaid?"

"Of course," she smiled. "You can help me plan things too!"

"I already have tons of ideas. We can have these wonderful rose decorations, and it will be a March wedding, so the weather will be beautiful, and everything will be white and wonderful, and the cake will be…"

* * *

The cake was 8 tiers, and frosted with pink roses on the sides. It stood proudly in the middle of the table. Georgiana surveyed it with approval, and walked briskly to the chairs to make sure everything was aligned exactly perfectly. She was so excited for the wedding to finally happen. She knew that it would be the start of a beautiful marriage, and she was glad that her brother would finally get his greatest happiness, and she would always have Lizzy close.

"It's about to start," Charlotte whispered to her, motioning for her to take her place. Georgiana nodded, and hurried into her place behind Charlotte. She wasn't at all upset that Charlotte had become the maid-of-honor. After all, besides Jane, Charlotte was Lizzy's oldest friend. Georgiana was simply glad that she had had such an opportunity to meet Lizzy, who had been such a good influence on her. She had made her more confident of herself, more ready to take risks, and more ready to forget the pain of her past.

Besides, Charlotte had been extraordinarily happy to be chosen as maid-of-honor, having never really been outstanding during her life. She was ecstatic to finally get a chance to shine and be special, though of course, not as special as the bride herself.

Georgiana craned her head to look back at Lizzy, who was entering the grass area, her arm linked with her father's. Mr. Bennet smiled graciously, though Georgiana knew he was slightly chagrined to be giving away his daughter.

Lizzy looked absolutely stunning. She had chosen her dress well, a simply cut strapless dress that rested elegantly on her torso, and trailed behind her in a long train. The bodice of the dress was covered in a delicate lace that added a simple beauty to the entire ensemble. Her hair was perfectly coiffed, and put together with a flower pin that Georgiana had helped pick out.

As Lizzy reached the front of the aisle, Georgiana smiled, and shifted from foot to foot nervously. She had never seen her brother happier, and though she felt slightly jealous that she would never again be quite his favorite woman, she knew she was relinquishing the title to someone entirely deserving, and she wholeheartedly wished them a long and beautiful marriage.

Georgiana smiled as they went through their vows and kissed each other, to loud applause. She knew she was going to be a wonderful aunt.

_The End_

**A/N: If you are disappointed with the end, I attribute it to me having a bad week, so too bad for you. Muahaha.**

**I would like to say here how thankful I am for all of your support. I do really appreciate those reviewers who stick with me, and review every chapter. Thank you, thank you to all of you guys. I really appreciate the feedback and encouragement you have left me. It's hard for me to express how much your support has gotten me through my own struggles, but personal and with writing. Please feel free to keep in touch. My email is .com. I must warn you that I am rather terrible at email replying, though. So please forgive me and send another email if I fail to reply. **

**This has been an amazing journey. I didn't ever think I would have the determination to carry through an entire novel-length fanfic, but here I am. I know that I have been imperfect as an author and fanficcer, but I had a lot of fun with this, and don't really take myself too seriously. Thank you again, and I hoped you enjoyed the end. Please leave me a last review! **

**I would also like to wish a fantastic happy birthday to my friend Emma (em38)! I'm submitting this at 11:38 PM, so technically it is still your birthday. Hehe. Good job being old like me!**


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